Hidden Treasures
by lonemoonhunter
Summary: Dark clouds brew over Ferelden these days. An unfortunate merchant is being hunted by a mysterious blood mage, for an Icon he no longer possesses. The Grey Wardens have agreed to give him aid, joined alongside by the former General of the Inquisition. Together they must defeat the maleficar and uncover the truth behind the missing Icon, or fall victim to untold horror.
1. Ch 1: Reunion of Heart, Home, & Chaos

**The Year is 44 in the Age of Dragon** , months after the disbandment of the _Inquisition_ , two years after the defeat of _Corypheus_ and the new appointment of _Divine Victoria_ , four years since the world shaking destruction of the _Temple of Sacred Ashes_ and opening of the _Breach_ , seven years after the _Kirkwall Rebellion_ which sparked the beginning of the _Mage-Templar War_ , and over ten years past the end of the _Fifth Blight_ and _Darkspawn Civil War_.

* * *

 **SOUTH REACH, FERELDEN**

The road had been long and the journey weary. A cold rain drenched the land for nearly three days before it slowed to a drizzle. With the arrival of fall, and soon winter, the temperature was dropping and the days were growing shorter. Still the horse plotted at a leisurely pace down the beaten path of mud and murky puddles, hot air puffing from its nostrils, carrying the renown General of the late Inquisition. At his side walked a large, lean hound, nearly half the size of the horse, it's gray and white coat sleek from the rain. Cullen had a cloak wrapped around his armored body and hood covering his head in attempts to stay warm and dry. His legs, however, were soaked and he could feel the water slowly dripping into his boots.

Riding over the next slope, the General finally caught sight of his destination - the Arling of South Reach. It rested in a valley between the Southron Hills and Draken River, just west of the Brecilian Forest. A lone stone bridge accessed the farming outskirts of the settlement, gently curving over the currently quick moving river. The main proper of South Reach was further beyond, tucked behind a squat wall of stone and guard towers, and the Arl's Keep could be seen atop a short cliff on the southern end of town. The Arling is small in comparison to others, most of its population farmers and shepherds with a lumber mill and mine system being the other two major outputs of the small town.

Continuing forward, Cullen could see soft lights coming from the open shutter windows of the sturdy farmsteads, only a handful of people still working out in the dreary fields, and he could hear the occasional bay of hounds from within the walled settlement. He couldn't help but eye his own dog, the "pup's" pointed ears ever more alert and nose higher in the air. He first made his way to the broad stable located just outside the gatehouse. It was larger than expected, as it had a decent sized pen at its back between two rows of stabling. The smell of hay and manure was strong here, both drenched by the rain.

Relaxing in a rocking chair on the narrow porch, an older man was too busy smoking his pipe to notice the approaching newcomer until he was nearly at the base of the low steps and his horse let out a snort. Cullen easily slid off his mount, his boots plopping into the muddy ground, and calmly stepped forward to address the stable owner. The talk was simple and to the point - the horse was stabled, its packs removed, and the price kept reasonable. Cullen was quick to continue on his way, his hound right on his heels, both wanting to get out of the wet cold. The gatehouse was open to them and they entered unhindered. A pair of guards, clad in splint mail glinted with green Veridium, gave him a salute as he strode in.

South Reach was a peaceful place, though the grey skies and thin curtains of rain painted it in an almost eerie light. Long shadows waited in every corner and ally way, and nearly no activity graced the outdoors, leaving everything still and dark. The buildings appeared heavy, their foundations solid and logs thick, their forms compact and grouped in tight neighborhoods with little to no layout of organization. The roads, a mix of worn cobblestone and mud, were lumpy and filled with puddles, and moved with the natural curvature of the landscape. Cullen had to climb a slow hill, doing well to not slip in the mud, to reach the desired household on the other side of town.

The house rested not far from the eastern gate. It was a small building of brick and hardy wood, its corner beams etched with symbolic carvings. A low stone fence surrounded an herb garden off to the side, with an iron gate latched closed, and a covered wagon still holding freshly cut logs rested in the back. Smoke gently lifted into the air from the fire chimney. Cullen stood under the lip of the roofing, water falling down in small streams onto his back, and after a relieving sigh knocked on the solid door. He could hear shuffling inside, the distant clanging of iron pots, and soon the door opened.

A woman roughly a year older than himself, dusty blonde hair with just the slight hint of curls and eyes a rich golden brown, wearing a simple, but well-tailored dress stood before him. A smile crossed both their faces and she excitingly jumped up and embraced him in a hug. "Cullen! You made it, thank the Maker." She quickly ushered him inside, reflexively shaking her hands of the clinging water. "You're soaked! Don't tell me you've been traveling through all this rain? You trying to catch a cold?! _(sigh)_ You've only just arrived and already you're causing me grief."

The warmth of the house was welcoming, as was Mia's sarcastic humor and protective nature. "It's good to see you too."

Once Cullen and his hound were inside, the large beast almost immediately shaking itself in attempts to get dry and sending Mia in a huff, did another body come to greet the visitors. Cullen heard his approach before the man entered, watching as he had to bow his head down when he stepped through the hall doorway. He was a heavily built man with thick arm muscles, dark hair pulled back and a healthy beard on a very prominent chin, and skin darkened by hours in the sun. Cullen recognized him as his brother-in-law, but they had not officially met yet. And almost immediately they began sizing each other up. Cullen noted him eyeing his silverite armor and the obvious sword at his side with suspicion, in addition to the large war hound at his back. He even puffed out his chest a bit to look bigger, more impressive. Perhaps Cullen was slightly intimidating to the man, despite his smaller girth? Or perhaps it was his intentionally calm demeanor that concerned him? Whatever the cause, his in-law had nothing to fear so long as he treated his sister right.

"Randol, this is my little brother Cullen." Mia introduced, stepping between the two resilient men and sweeping aside her husband's worries. "Remember, he was coming to visit?"

With a small bow of his head, "My apologies for arriving so late, I had intended to arrive earlier in the day. I hope I'm not interrupting anything." Cullen stepped forward and offered out his hand for a formal greeting, after removing his wet glove of course.

Randol let out a bold laugh. "Welcome!"

He grabbed Cullen's hand with enough strength it made him cringe and suddenly pulled him in a hearty hug. To say it surprised him, or made him feel awkward, would have been an understatement. In addition to the small level of embarrassment, his sister chuckling to the side, he felt like he was being grappled by a bear and was slowly losing air. He could barely twitch, and hesitated to touch the man to break free or even accept the hug. Luckily it was over as quick as it begun, Randol releasing him and patting him on the shoulder. The gesture was no less gentle, as Cullen felt he may have left a bruise even with his armor protecting him.

The next couple days were a fuss of warm family reunion. His two younger siblings, Rosalie and Branson, quickly received news of his arrival and paid him a visit as soon as possible - even waking him before the rise of the sun. Cullen also met his nephew for the first time, Branson's son Odri, a boy only a few years of age and full of mischief. More than once did the boy try and steal his sword so he could ride Pup into battle against the hordes of dire grasshoppers stalking the pastures. It was heartfelt moments mixed with anxiety, fond memories, and burning questions. They avoided asking Cullen about his time as a Templar, betraying their own curiosity, but they weren't afraid to ask him about the Inquisition, especially Inquisitor Adaar and other key members. They, primarily his sisters, also asked when he was going to find himself a wife. To which Mia and Rosalie pointed out a few _choice_ bachelorettes in town.

Cullen was relieved to see his family again and once more be at their teasing, but he was also relieved to escape them. When he could, he spent most of his time relaxing, enjoying the outdoors, and playing with his dog. He would wander the town on the occasion, getting a good layout of its area, its people, and how it all fit together. He found an unintentional divide in the city, those inside the wall and those outside. The populas' majority were good, hard-working folk, but there was also a fair number of arrogant snobs - which unfortunately included the Guard-Captain. Regardless of their station, most commonly mistook Cullen for a Knight of the Silver Order thanks to his unique armor, which in no way was an insult, though some recognized him formerly as General. Two of the local guards were former Inquisition soldiers and the three were quick to reunite and he joined their group of friends. It then didn't take long for word to spread of his previous occupation and it garnered him even more (unwanted) attention, enough to even reach Arl Leonas Bryland. The Arl had sent him a letter of formal greeting and recognition, stating his gratitude and respect.

Unfortunately, it didn't take long for the War Hero to become anxious. He needed something to do. He managed letters and requisitions sent from the Sanctuary in regards to former Templars still suffering from withdrawal, but those were few and far between. Otherwise he tried to keep himself busy by helping out his family in their daily routines or offering guidance and tips to the city guards. As much as he wanted to help them in their work, and consequently do their Captain's job, he knew his place and didn't overstep his boundaries. Eventually, enough time passed to make him question how long he was going to stay. Was he going to make his life here? Build a home and settle down? Or was he going to continue to travel across Ferelden and offer aid to those who most needed it?

Cullen sat with Harrington and Virgil, along with their friend and fellow guardswoman Morgan, at the Roaming Bronto Tavern & Inn late in the eve. The place smelled strongly of ale, sweat, and wood. Its open floor plan was stocked with full tables and booths, busy and loud with laborers, farmers, and waitresses. There were a few hounds in here as well, begging for scraps under the tables or sheepishly following the trails. Cullen's Pup was no different, waiting patiently by his feet, giving his best puppy eyes and wide smile to the waitresses whenever they came by. And they came by often, giving him little snippets of food and commenting on how well-behaved he was. If not for the fact that they sometimes forget to bring something, Cullen would have believed that's why they always came to their table. _His_ table.

There was an upper floor, a narrow stairway connected to a single balcony overlooking the west side of the tavern before leading down a hall lined with doors on either side, each of them rooms available for a quick stay. Cullen ended up renting out one of them, not caring to spend his entire time in town sleeping on his sister's couch and listening to her and her husband rocking in the next room. The beds were sturdy, but not the most comfortable, and on most nights it was quiet enough to sleep without burying his head under the pillow.

"Another drink, Ser Cullen?" the waitress asked. She was a bubbly youth, her fair skin painted with freckles and reddish hair thick with curls, at the age of trying too hard to look more mature or appealing, tightening her corset to where she could barely breathe and squeezing her chest uncomfortable close. She was sweet though. She was always there to welcome him in the morning and wish him sweet dreams at night.

"No thank you Fawn. I've had-"

"Damn right he does!" Virgil interrupted, the Marcher's voice loud and edged with an accent. The lean, clean cut man, almost sheepish in appearance, could always get someone's attention - despite the fact that he was sneaky as they come, a former scout in the army. With a cocky grin, "Keep 'em comin'!"

"Here you go!" Fawn giggled with pep, eagerly placing another frothy mug on the table before bouncing off.

Cullen paid her no mind as he gave Virgil a long look, but did not make any protest to the ale. He sometimes wondered if the wiry man was trying to get him drunk, to see what he was like when his wisdom ran out. That would be something to see, the great General of the Inquisition drunk with city soldiers, probably causing a mess and having to get arrested by other city guards. Varric would love to see that.

"You know she likes you, right?" Morgan commented out of the blue. She was a tall woman, her voice deeper than most, and she always kept a straight face - no matter the situation or conversation. She was very professional looking, dark hair kept short and eyes keen, but she could also be bluntly honest which didn't always work out well with her job. She reminded him of a little like Cassandra.

Cullen did not respond, but the shifting of his eyes told her he knew. He instead took a swig from his drink, only considering accepting the new one to drown out certain thoughts. It was quite obvious, anyways, how Fawn and several other waitress treated him. He regularly heard their giggles and gossip in the background whenever he walked by. At least they weren't as bad as the women in Orlais.

"Come on, Morgan. Don't go ruining the night with girl gossip." Harrington snorted with a wave of his hand, an attempt to dismiss the topic. He was a more rugged man than both Cullen and Virgil, his face sporting a growing beard, a scar across his brow, and a broken nose that healed over. He was roughly the same age of Cullen, the other two younger than they.

"It's not gossip. It is fact."

Harrington went on to argue the point, the conversation quickly losing interest to Cullen. He easily ignored the two, ignoring their quarrel over "romantic interests", dulling out their voices as he returned to his drink and glanced up at strangely quiet Virgil across from him. The guard's eyes were set elsewhere, not paying any attention to the arguing duo as well, and he silently signaled Cullen to take a look as well. His brown eyes had a suspicious spark in them. Turning and looking over his shoulder, Cullen spotted the person of interest - a dwarf dressed in merchant clothing and wearing a strained face. The squat man eyed everything and everyone with a level of fear, bordering on panic, yet he also appeared to be looking for something. The dwarf quickly and cautiously addressed the tavern owner behind the bar, slid him some coin, and hastily began making his way through the crowded room to the stairs, keeping his arms tucked in close.

Cullen gave Virgil a cautionary glance, both of them sharing similar thoughts on the newcomer. Something was off about him, like a shadow loomed over him or an invisible target hung on his back. He lacked the smug gruffness of the Carta, but that didn't mean he didn't have connections with them. And when he passed by, Cullen noticed his tailored clothing hadn't been washed in some time, stained with sweat and mud, and was tearing at the seams, and he looked exhausted. He may have had a conflict not long ago, an incident that sent him running for the hills - so to say. Whatever the case may be, he needed to be watched just in case trouble was following him. The dwarf didn't even stop to address the obvious guards at their table.

Harrington slammed his fist on the table, shaking the sturdy surface. "Bullshit! That's a lie and you know it!" He pointed accusingly at the guardswoman across from him.

"Lie or not, what's said is said. Don't accuse me of the source." Morgan casually answered, only her eyes narrowing in a testy sneer.

"What sources?! Who's been spreading this around?!" Harrington looked ready to shoot to his feet in outrage.

"Spreading what around?" Virgil jumped in, his ability to switch between suspicious guard to excited civilian remarkable. With a chuckle, "Sorry, I missed the conversation. We talking about "Doll-face"?"

"No!" Harrington answered too quickly.

"Yes." Morgan corrected.

Virgil laughed at Harrington's contorted and red face. Obviously he heard something on the topic. "Well don't leave me hanging! Spit it out!"

Harrington growled and buried his face behind a hand, nearly slapping himself with it. Morgan crossed her arms and stared at the man discontentedly, while Virgil sat at the edge of his seat in anticipation. Cullen hadn't a clue on what the subject was about, but he could speculate this "Doll-face" was a person of intimate interest to Harrington - embarrassingly so. There was a pause in their chatter, each waiting for a response, and that's when they felt the sudden hush that fell upon the tavern. Cullen and his companions turned their attentions outward to the gawking crowd. Everyone's eyes had turned to the entrance, murmurs and whispers escaping their normally loud mouths. Cullen twisted his head around to get a better view and was surprised to see three cloaked Grey Wardens standing at the front. Their blue and silver armor, along with the renown Griffon on their chests, was an immediate give away and it appeared that they too may have been in a recent conflict. At first glance that dark spatter could easily be mistaken as mud, but an experienced fighter knew better. Coincidence? Were they after the merchant that entered just minutes ago? If so, who was the antagonist - the dwarf or the Wardens?

One of the Wardens was busy speaking with the bar keep, a woman by judge of size and shape, and a mage. Cullen narrowed his eyes at the lightly glowing staff strapped to her back, new suspicions entering his mind. It was only a few years ago when the Orlesian Wardens tried to darken the world by succumbing to blood magic and, knowingly or not, aid Corypheus in creating an army of demons. Though the Inquisition had put a stop to that and cleared their minds of the falsehood they stumbled in, the memories and wounds were still fresh. Since then the Wardens haven't been seen in a good light in parts of Thedas, word of their betrayal written in song. He hoped these Wardens were different, that perhaps the Order in Ferelden was still "pure".

And then she turned around, following the gesture of the bar keep's hand, and Cullen instantly stiffened. He felt his heart sink and a lump clog his throat. She was more beautiful than he remembered. Hair a dark chocolate, pulled back in a loose up-do, leaving long bangs to frame her elegant face and alluring eyes - those brilliant green orbs capable of bearing into anyone's soul. He barely noticed that she too was wearing armor and had a sword at her hip, contradicting her true power. He did notice the large mabari calmly sitting at her side, bulky and bigger than his own hound. He could easily make out the gray on its snout and the gentle dull in its auburn fur.

When Kathryn smiled, even when it wasn't directed at him, he could feel the warmth and pleasure protruded from it. A flurry of renewed memories crossed his mind, most previously lost in time, fondness and a ping of guilt accompanying them. Then she began heading in his direction, her feet carrying her through the crowd. Cullen swiftly looked away - doing his best to not get noticed by the woman. A fear had struck him. One that he could not easily shake. He could pick out her footsteps on the wooden floor, even among the constant shifting in the boards thanks to the movements of the other occupants, and he listened as she drew closer and closer.

Pup could sense the strange nervous tension in his partner, so he paid close attention to the Warden and the other mabari as they approached. He let out a subtle, muffled growl of warning. It was too low for a human to hear, but the older dog immediately turned to him. The two beasts stared at one another for a handful of seconds, Pup ruffling up the fur on his back defensively. And then the duo walked on past, the auburn hound no longer caring to give the "pup" any attention.

Cullen tentatively raised his eyes to her back. There was an urge that nagged at him. To stand and reach out to her, to take her by the hand and spin her around, to look her in the eye once more and say… something. To say sorry or hello. Anything! Instead, he did nothing. He sat quietly at the table, watching her leave him behind like so many years ago. He fought the slack in his shoulders and immediately accepted the full mug in front of him. It wasn't until after he finished over half the drink, feeling the froth on the edge of his mouth, that he realized he was being watched. Virgil and Morgan were staring at him, the former holding a wide cocky grin.

"You have something to share, General?" Virgil snickered and passively scratched the tip of his nose, "You're looking a little red there."

Cullen felt his body tense. Was he blushing? He quickly pushed down his strange fluster and regained his composure, stating, "No. It's just the drink."

"Hah! Really? Cause I think-"

" _It's just the drink."_ Cullen re-affirmed, the cold glare and harsh tone immediately severing the man's playful tease. When Virgil clamped his jaw shut and nodded his apologizes, Cullen stood from the table. "Excuse me."

He glanced over to the stairs leading up to his temporary quarters, then proceeded to make his way towards the door. He eyed the Wardens who remained, the two warriors having taken part in a game of cards with a few others - apparently they weren't strangers. The noise of the tavern had returned not long after their arrival, but it wasn't until Cullen stepped outside when he recognized it. The quiet somber of the night welcomed him with open arms and the chill in the air nipped at his skin, both drawing him away from the rest of the town. A deep sigh escaped him. He walked with purpose, marching beyond the protective walls and into the open fields of grass. It was here, where he truly felt secluded and free to let his mind wander without fear of prying eyes.

Cullen subconsciously acknowledged the warmth of his hound lying beside him as he sat in the knee-high grass, as well as the gentle chirping of the many insects and glow of the fire-bugs. His mind was flush with old memories and nightmares, past recollections that may or may not be warped by time, and buried feelings of a past he tried to long forget. He felt pain. So much pain. He sought out something positive, to cling to something warm and good. Her smile easily crossed his mind - renewed in his thoughts. So bright, so welcoming, so gentle. It effortlessly calmed nerves and eased sorrows. It brought comfort and hope. And even when just thinking about it, her smile soothed him.

Years ago, she would walk down those cold stone halls of the Circle tower and every time she passed him by, she smiled at him. There was no malice, no fear or regret. Whenever she looked at him, it was sincere. It was kind. She normally had her arms full of books and paper, sometimes heavy enough to turn her face pink. Many times he wanted to offer assistance, to help carry some of her burden, but he could not. Only once did he do so - accidentally.

Kathryn was running late to one of her sessions and when she rounded the corner, there he was posted. She fell back, bouncing off of him and his plate armor, and hit the floor. Everything she was carrying scattered, papers and books alike. It had startled him, his hand instinctively going to his blade. He stood over her, like an imposing menace ready to make a kill. And then she looked up at him and smiled - the same warm smile she would give him days on. It was the very first time they had met. The first time he laid eyes on her and she him. Amazingly, she had asked if **he** was okay, when it was her lying on the floor, vulnerable and at his mercy. He lost nearly all his fight, all his weary suspicions. He watched in stunned silence as she gathered up her things and returned to her feet. She dared look at him again, her brilliant green eyes attempting to find his face buried behind the helm. She apologized, her cheeks flush with embarrassment, and went on her way.

In her haste she had missed one of her books, "Paradoxes of the Fade" - or something of that nature. He took it. For several days he carried around that book, seeking to give it back. He could have easily ignored it or returned it to the library, but he did not. At the time he did not know why. Perhaps he felt sorry for thinking to strike her down, for thinking she wanted to cause him harm. In honest truth, he just wanted to see her again. To see her smile. The book was the only connection he had with her then. He hadn't learned her name yet.

Even when he got teased by some of his friends for his "choice of reading", which he did peer into the book from time to time, he held on to it. He found she had notes tucked away, theories and quotes folded to mark pages. She even had a few doodles on the back of them, which made him chuckle - they weren't very good. He found she was very curious, but cautious of the Fade. She weighed risks and problems with simple calculations, trying to determine if delving into the Fade was a good thing. Dangerous without a doubt of course. He had learned a good deal about the mage thanks to her sketches and scribbles, perhaps another reason why he kept the book.

It was nearly two weeks later when he saw her again. It was late in the eve, her candlelight catching his attention when all should be going to rest. She was studying, attempting to recall information she was missing. She looked distrait. He silently offered the book back and when she looked up to him… Her smile was more beautiful than before, warm like a kiss from the sun. She had asked his name and he couldn't refuse to answer. He couldn't turn and walk away. His knees were locked.

"C-Cullen… My name is Cullen."

She laughed at his awkwardness. He was a flustered youth back then, especially when around her. He would stutter and sometimes lose his nerve in her presence.

"I'm Kathryn, Kathryn Amell. A pleasure to meet you, Ser Cullen."

He let her stay up and study that night, even if protocol stated otherwise. Two days passed until he saw her again, and it was she who came seeking this time. She wanted to thank him and asked if he had a regular post. He had stupidly nodded and quickly dismissed her, his nervous fluster growing. And from then on, she took that route to her sessions, each time giving him a smile as she walked by. On occasion she would pause to talk, if the circumstances allowed it. They kept their distance, but it did not take long for the two to call one another "friends".

She wore her hair down back then, he remembered, reaching just above her collarbone and was lightly braided, and the blue robes looked good on her - the yellow robes not quite comparing when she was officially titled a Harrowed Mage. The memory of the apprentice mage he knew was a fond one, but it made the General's heart ache inside of him. Now she was a Grey Warden - a woman whose story he barely touched, a powerful mage equipped for war, and a renown commander in charge of a fabled Order. She has become far more remarkable than he could imagine. A woman out of his league.

As he sat somberly in the grass, his mind swirling with her memory, Cullen let out a weak laugh. "What am I doing out here...? Hiding? Running away like a child?" Again a chuckle escaped him. He was speaking to no one in particular, but Pup gave him his full attention. Cullen at last turned to his faithful hound and stroked his head, a weak smile on his face. "It's been... _Maker_ , fifteen years since I've seen her. And she still weakens me so. We didn't even talk! … I doubt she even remembers me. And if she does, probably not in the best light. Maker knows I was unkind to her when…"

Cullen trailed off, painful memories of the Broken Circle returning to him. The dark whispers, the stench and rot of demonic infestation, the halls painted with blood, the screams… those horrid, spine chilling screams. He tried to shake it all away, to push them to the back of his mind and replace them with better thoughts, better memories. He thought of more recent times, though still far from peaceful it was a summer home in comparison to the fall of the Circle. Back when the Inquisition was at its height, Inquisitor Adaar paid him regular visits, checking up on the status of the troops and the progress of military tasks. Or just to chat. He trusted the Inquisitor, called him a friend, enough to share some of his deepest secrets.

"The Inquisitor… He asked me about her once." Cullen continued on, half speaking to Pup and half to the air. His eyes had drifted away again. "And you know what I told him? … That I was sorry. That I wanted to apologize to her, and tell her how much I appreciated what she did for me and everyone at the tower. That I don't... hate her."

Pup whined and cocked his head in response, a look of sympathy in those eyes.

"I should…" The dreary atmosphere lifted as Cullen began to laugh again, "And instead, I'm out here telling my woes to a dog."

Pup's bobbed tail, and consequently his butt, wagged in the grass and he let out a happy, " _Boff_."

He patted his hound's head. With a somewhat relieved sigh, "Come on, let's get out of here."

Pup jumped up in a single bound, bouncing around Cullen as he slowly came to his feet. He tried to wipe off some of the mud that now stuck to him, the moisture off the grass finally gaining his attention through his pants, and he shortly began to make his way back to town. He knew it wouldn't be easy confronting the woman whom he had cherished years ago, an unrequited love that he buried deep within himself, but he prayed for the strength to face her. He prayed for her forgiveness - if nothing else.

By the time Cullen returned to the tavern, it had only just been over half an hour and a good chunk of the occupants had left, which was strange. Normally it would be another hour or so before the crowd even _began_ to disperse, but when he arrived he saw a large number of active guards present. Virgil and Morgan were standing outside, apparently back on duty, and looking none too happy.

"What's going on?" Cullen asked, a serious vibe in his voice.

Virgil turned to him with arms crossed, the cheer he had earlier in the night gone and replaced with bitterness. "You know that dwarf who just arrived? Apparently a group of "madmen" are after him and we've been assigned to keep an eye on him until the matter is dealt with."

"He's been on the run for the last two weeks and less than four miles from here he was attacked. The Captain fears he may have lured his assailants to town." Morgan informed him nonchalantly.

" _AND!_ our new found friend doesn't want to be relocated to a secure shelter and has decided to lock himself in his room. Like it's any better." Virgil said begrudgingly, "So Harry's in there trying to talk some sense into him. I'm afraid you'll have to wait out here until we get this sorted out."

Cullen looked past the two through the open doorway. He could see Fawn and some of the other waitresses huddled behind the bar, while the owner was arguing with the Guard Captain. This was obviously bad for business. The remaining occupants were slowly filling out, but he didn't see _them_. "The Wardens?"

"Gone. They left shortly before all _this_ began." Virgil answered, circling his hand around in gesture to the whole situation.

"I overheard them talking about searching the forest for clues. I don't know if it's related to the dwarf and these madmen, or something completely different." Morgan added on, which Cullen nodded his thanks to.

"I need my gear. I'm going after them." Cullen said bluntly. "If the Wardens are involved, then trouble is bound to follow."

Virgil nodded softly as he processed it. He then gestured for him to move past, "Go head. If the Captain gives you crap tell him to suck it." Morgan gave him a long look, which he shrugged at. "What? The man's a dick."

Cullen began to move past them, but as he neared the door Morgan halted him momentarily. "Do you suspect the Wardens?" she asked.

"I suspect they know more of what's going on. If Kathryn came here to speak with the dwarf, she must be trying to help him."

" _Ah ha_!" Virgil grinned widely and pointed accusingly. "You do know her!"

Cullen couldn't hold back the crack of a smile. "Of course. She's the Hero of Ferelden." Both Virgil and Morgan stared at him then, the former's jaw dropping and pointing finger falling limp. Turning back around to enter the tavern, Cullen made one last remark, "And she saved my life."

Inside he walked past the handful of posted guards and ignored the Captain as the man spat words in his direction, making his way up the stairs to his room. He passed Harrington who was leaning against a closed door and speaking through it, the guardsman merely nodding to him as he went by. Cullen gathered his necessary equipment quickly and donned his armor, hearing the muffled conversation of the guard and angry dwarf beyond his door. He made his exit within a handful of minutes. With haste he made his way to the stables on the other side of town. His horse nickered as he mounted and kicked her into gear. He needed to catch up the Wardens, they were nearly an hour ahead of him by now. Pup was running right behind him as they sped towards the depths of the Brecilian Forest.

The darkness was the first thing that assailed them, the lush greenery and trees blocking out the glow of the moon and stars, and many twists and turns cut off any direct lines of sight. Cullen had lit a torch to help cope with the encroaching blackness, even if it also made him a noticeable target. The ride was a continuous climb, at times becoming rocky and steep from the increasing earthy protrusions, forcing his horse to find alternate routes. Pup soon took the lead, nose to the ground and tracking the elusive group on a wild goose chase. It was difficult to keep an eye on his hound, but Cullen managed to stay on his trail - with the mabari's helpful barks of course.

The second thing to assault them was the cold. It was still early in the night, but it was cool enough to reveal their warm puffs of air and begin turning the dew into frost. It clung to them like a second skin and was quickly turning Cullen's face pink. As they continued onward, Cullen prayed that the Wardens had indeed come this way and he wasn't out here chasing an illusion. He sought out any signs of movement, human activity, campfires or torches, but he saw nothing. He knew it would be nearly impossible unless it was a light source, but he kept his eyes ripe. Especially if the so-called madmen were also out here. He didn't want to be caught off guard.

Pup stopped just ahead of him, sniffing the bitter air furiously. His ears were upright and his pose alert. He caught wind of something and suddenly let out a howl into the night.

"Hush! What are you doing?!" Cullen questioned with discouragement.

The mabari whined gently, tucking his ears back and bowing in submission. The heavy silence was broken only moments later. A mimicking howl responded to Pup's call. Cullen looked outward in the surrounding darkness, trying to determine where the howl was coming from. It wasn't close, but neither was it far. Pup gave him a "Boff" and plodded forward, leading him once more. Perhaps it was Kathryn's hound that responded - it surely didn't sound like a wolf. Several more minutes passed and nothing changed. The environment blended together in the dark night and the terrain was rugged enough to cause confusion. The thought of being lost did cross his mind, but he kept his faith. Pup stopped ahead of him once more, again nose to the air and ears upright. This time, though, he was searching all around him, circling, and then he growled. Cullen cautiously lifted the torch higher in the air, attempting to strengthen the light reach. He suddenly felt exposed and placed his other hand on the hilt of his sword.

A hiss was the only warning the General received as he closed the distance, his attention instantly turning to the side as two red, beady eyes above dripping fangs and flanked by clawed hands came right at him. He managed to lift his arm in defense, but the dark creature knocked him right off his horse, additionally sending his torch flying. The beast of burden nickered and neighed in sudden fright, bolting forward. Cullen landed hard on his back, his attacker's fangs clamped around his bracer, and he fought to keep it from shredding his face or tearing his arm off, gaining some cuts across his nose and cheek. He punched the cursed thing in the face, hearing a nice crunch under his fist, and it loosened its grip enough that his second hit staggered it off of him. Cullen's attention was stolen away from it briefly as he had to suddenly roll out of the way of his panicking horse. The beast stomped and kicked at the other monsters that came out of the shadows, nearly stepping on her owner's head in the process.

Cullen rolled to his feet and swiftly unsheathed his sword, hearing the sheen of the weapon. The hungry monster growled as it too returned to its feet, its body creaking and popping ever so lightly. He tried to get a better look at the thing, but now it was too dark to make out any details. It was humanoid, standing upright on two legs, it had two lanky arms tipped with claws, and it looked like it was wearing armor. When it lunged at him, uncanny and full of fury, he easily sidestepped and sliced his blade across its face, splitting open its skin and bone. When it stumbled forward and hit the ground, it confirmed Cullen's suspicion when he heard the clank of chainmail. His attention quickly turned to the fight between Pup and a group of them, the large mabari tearing through them with superior strength and speed, but they matched him with ferocity. They clawed and bit at him, attempting to swarm and bury him in a hungry feasting. Cullen rushed to his aid, cutting down the spine of one of the creatures before bringing his shield forward and bashing aside another, snapping its neck. In almost an instant he caught nearly all of their attentions.

They turned on him in a blink of an eye and he was forced to jump back and go on the defensive. He moved with swiftness and dexterity, keeping his footing and not letting them surround him. He severed outstretched limbs and knocked aside any that lunged at him. He cut many down in fast motion as they came at him, shifting positions as necessary. Now no longer encircled, Pup tackled and tore apart those who stood between him and Cullen, his toothy maw shredding flesh and breaking bones. He jumped back and forth between enemies, weakening those he did not outright kill before coming back to finish the job.

Pup let out an aggressive bark and growl, spitting remnants of his last victim, before lunging at the next foe. Cullen heard him yelp in pain, the cry bearing deep into him like a sword wound, and he turned immediately in his direction, blocking an overzealous attack in the process. His eyes widened in fear as he saw the shadowy demon looming over his hound, its wicked claws deep in Pup's side and pinning him to the ground. Body warped with tattered cloth and gnarled skin, cloaked in a supernatural smoke, the Shade drained the life energy from the hound with its touch. And though it found enjoyment in hearing the creature whimper, it found more in making Cullen watch. The demon eyed the General as it lifted its other talons.

"NO!"

Cullen moved in a rush, knocking aside the monster directly ahead of him, and cut open the second. He glared at the demon, a burning hatred kindled within. Two more creatures stood between him and the twisted abomination, and even as he refused to accept it, he knew he wasn't going to make it in time.

A vicious snarl and blur of movement suddenly hit the demon from behind. The large mabari latched onto its one glowing eye, tackling it with enough force it launched it away from Pup and onto the ground, and then proceeded to shake the damnation vigorous like a rag doll. The demon shrilled and cried, its twisted form beginning to shred and failing to stop the overpowering hound with its wildly swinging arms. There came a loud _pop!_ when the mabari's jaws snapped shut and then he tossed the monstrosity aside, the limp body slamming into three of its armored allies.

Cullen beheaded another foe and raced to Pup's side. The mabari whimpered and struggled to get back on his feet, not wanting to disappoint even as blood seeped from his rib-cage and nose. Cullen was abhorred, hands beginning to tremble as he held him down gently, paling as he felt the blood leave his face. The older hound stood defensively at his back, growling at the dark forms crawling out of the forest. Gripping his sword with heated might, Cullen turned to face down the seemingly endless line of enemies. He knew these were no madmen. They were possessed corpses, hungry for a taste of the living. He glared at each of them with bitterness and readied himself for the onslaught. With hisses and bone clatters, of what best could be described as excitement, the corpses sprung forward. They ran and crawled across the ground in a frenzy, their hungry eyes the only true depictions of their locations. Cullen let out a roar of his own, challenging the undead horde to do their best, alongside the equally angry barks of the large mabari. As they drew closer, he could see the rot on their faces and the tatters of their rusty armor, he could make out their grey discoloration and startle in their blank eyes as they looked up to the light source.

A loud clap of thunder hit the front center of the horde, an invisible force rippling across the ground and sending the skeletal forms flying in a wave of shattered pieces. Cullen had to shield himself from the projectiles, ignoring the ringing in his ears. The attack disrupted the charge and shattered their ranks. The Warden-Commander leap from the bluff without hesitated to join the fray, the spear point of her dark staff finding its mark in one of their skulls. She hit and rolled to her feet, sweeping the blade from the skull to sever another. She moved with uncanny swiftness, using her weapon to deflect, trip, and bash aside the many undead now turning against her - keeping just out of reach. Her hound bowled over a line of them, springing forward in a powerful charge to protect his mistress. The canine was just as swift and cunning as she, bounding back when it was beginning to be swarmed and leaving them open to her magical attacks.

Cullen did not let them fight alone, charging forward to slay the unnatural creations. With a bright light now on his side, his attacks were far more precise and deadly, whether with sword or shield. His blade severed their heads effortlessly, his shield shattered necks and broke spines, and no undead could penetrate his defense. Lightning surged from the unseen sky above, exploding the skeletal bodies, and waves of ice crystals crippled and entrapped the monsters, allowing the General to bash them to pieces. It created a brief fog of frosty air particles, but it was a satisfying sensation.

A group managed to break away and rushed to engage the Warden-Commander, and another large shadowy figure closed quickly behind her. Fearing another demon, Cullen called out to her and the woman ducked. The _whoosh!_ of the blade could be heard over the hisses and crushing bone, the heavy blade swinging right over the mage's head and severing through the undead creatures. Kathryn twirled behind the warrior Warden, his silver-blue armor now visible, her movement and direction of attention suggesting she knew he was there long before Cullen did. She sent forth another wave of magic which shattered an approaching number of undead looking to take advantage of the warrior's backside. Two more Wardens also joined the fight. Powerful arrows launched corpses off their feet and a horseman plowing right through, trampling more to dust.

It was a mess of chaos trapped in the small opening, enemies thrashing all around them, and yet the Wardens fought with timed accuracy and easily integrated the General in their tactics. In a matter of seconds, they were all fighting as a coherent unit, shouting warnings and directions, setting each other up for killing blows, and protecting one another as they equally tore through their enemies. The undead continued to came at them in fluttering waves, until finally their numbers dwindled to nothing. The last of them found the sharp end of the General's shield, the man slamming its head into the ground, splitting it apart at the jaw. The red glow in its eyes died and its skeletal body began to crumble, leaving behind a pile of dust only to be swept away by the passing wind.

Cullen panted, breathing in the cold night air. He could feel it drying his throat, but didn't care. He picked himself back up and rushed over to Pup's side, dropped his weapons and fell to his knees. The hound let out a weak whimper in response to his touch. He stared down at the mabari, his fear returning to him as now Pup could barely lift his head. Only the motion of something close tore him away, his hand reflexively going for his blade again. Kathryn hastily knelt and placed a hand above the puncture wound, a blue glow emanating from her palm. Cullen noticed she was missing her fourth digit, cut off just above the knuckle, but his main attention remained on the magical mist as it drifted into his treasured companion. He watched as the three holes in Pup's side slowly healed, the skin sealing and fur re-growing, leaving behind only old blood to indicate anything was ever wrong.

Joy and overwhelming relief grew in the man, the wear on his face washing away. Energy returned to the hound as Pup lifted his head, mouth open wide in a smile, and he rolled over into Cullen's arms, tail and body wagging. Cullen laughed and sighed at the same time, he began vigorously petting and rubbing him, whispering prayers of thanks. Pup bound up and nearly knocked him over, licking his face in excitement. Cullen held him back tentatively and for a time forgot where he was and whom he was with. His honey-coated eyes soon lifted to Kathryn, only briefly losing his pleased smile due to fluster. She was smiling back, gentle as always, and it was then that he felt warmth in his cheeks. He hoped the cold disguised his flush. The woman was only an arm's reach away, he could make out a pair of tiny old scars across her cheekbone, her skin also hinted with pink thanks to the chill, and the magic illuminating her body gave her an almost heavenly glow.

"Hey." she said, her voice just as sweet and mystical as ever.

He pushed down the lump growing in his throat. ".. Hey."

Pup bounced over to Kathryn then, surprising the woman as he kissed her in gratitude. She laughed and easily accepted his thanks, "You're welcome." She rubbed on his ears, which he appeared to enjoy.

"Kat." The warrior Warden approached, his informal call contrasting with his rigid form. He was a tall, strong fellow with sharp Nevarran features and black hair pulled back in a short tail. He had his greatsword strapped to his back and a woven cloak latched with a pendant displaying the Blade of Mercy - the insignia of the Templars. "The maleficar no doubt heard the commotion, we need to move before he vanishes again."

Kathryn nodded in agreement, rising to her feet with staff in hand. Cullen stood as well, a far more serious expression upon his face now. She was hunting a blood mage, why? He parted his lips to ask, but she rose a hand to silence him. "It's complicated." Was all she explained, as if able to read his mind. "We can discuss it when we return. Will you be okay heading back on your own?"

Cullen was a bit taken back, uncertain on how to respond. She was being distant and it sounded like she wanted him gone. It hurt, but he was able to accept the theories behind it. "Perhaps. It depends on how many more corpses I find." There was bitterness in his tone as he mentioned the creatures. It faded, but not his seriousness. "I came out here looking for you and your men, however, and it appears I was correct in suspecting you were involved with these _madme_ n... What's going on exactly?"

Kathryn parted her lips to answer, but was cut off. "Sorry to interrupt," The tall Warden replied with a level of urgency and sarcasm, "but we need to get going. Your questions can wait."

"Can they?" Cullen glared with dislike and crossed his arms in stubbornness. "A blood mage is haunting the woods outside my families homes!"

"They will have to." Kathryn piped in, her attempt to calm the situation helping but keeping the edge, "I'm sorry, but in truth we don't have the time to explain. We'll talk later."

Cullen's eyes shifted to the sight of movement. He watched as the three Wardens that accompanied her began to head off, one of which being a qunari, leaving them behind as they moved with a level of haste. He even dared to glare at her discontentedly as she stepped away from him and made her leave. Was she giving him the cold shoulder? Abandoning him in the dark for no apparent reason? Why not invite him on the hunt? Allow him to join in the fight? The light she had created was quickly fading, the floating orb dissolving above the skirmish sight. Cullen quickly turned to see if he could find his torch again, before darkness consumed him once more, and was thankful when he did. He moved to relight it, but under quick evaluation found it had snapped and, though he could reignite it, the flame would not last long.

He turned back around in Kathryn's direction. She was gone. All of them had disappeared into the vast shadows. It made him wonder, how were they moving around so effortlessly without any light sources? Would they not be bumbling in the undergrowth? Magic. It had to be. It was too subtle to detect, not that he could (anymore) to begin with. Instead he looked to Pup, the dog sitting happily at his side even as darkness once more fell upon them.

* * *

The trek home was troublesome and exhausting - in more ways than one. Cullen returned to town, as requested, and headed back to the tavern. It was nearly empty now, aside from the two stationed guards continuing to look after the "entrapped" dwarf, and it was quiet. He had been gone for a handful of hours, the return trip taking much longer thanks to his fled horse, and early morning had set in. It would still be a few more until the light of the sun kissed Ferelden soil, but he already knew he wasn't going to sleep well. The people would be getting up soon to greet those warm rays, to gather in prayer, and eagerly get breakfast. Cullen had hoped his fatigue would help put him down, to grant him those few hours of deep sleep, but to his luck it was not so. He laid on the stiff, wood framed bed unable to rest - his mind too busy with thoughts. He stared up at the bare ceiling, digging holes into the beams with his heavy eyes. Pup had fallen asleep almost immediately, curled up on the small round rug next to the bed. He was exhausted too - the drain he suffered playing a major part in it. The young mabari was a good fighter and tracker, but he had never dealt with demons before. It was a deadly experience and he now knew to use better caution around such horrid monstrosities.

Time passed slowly and quickly as Cullen drifted in and out of restless sleep. And when at last he found some measure of deep slumber did loud urgent knocking wake him. He shot up in the bed, his back popping in reaction to the sudden motion. Pup had jumped up in startle as well, practically stumbling to his feet instead of rolling, and let out a hasty bark. Cullen groaned and grumbled, rubbing on his back while he walked over to the door. Whomever was on the other side was still banging on it - though he could hear them calling out his name as well.

 _"What?!"_ He snipped as he opened the door, obviously tired and grumpy.

"S-Ser.. Cullen?" She shrank back from minor startle, before tears began to swell in her aqua eyes. "Thank the Maker you're okay!" Fawn nearly cried and burst in and grabbed hold of his shirt in a frontal hug, surprising the sluggish General. She buried her face into his chest, "I thought you dead!"

In some confusion Cullen awkwardly, though gently, held her by the shoulder in a weak attempt to calm her. "Dead? What do you-"

"Someone found your horse!" She failed to contain her tears as she looked up at him, "It was hurt! And you were nowhere to be found! .. I-I heard the guards saying you went into the forest, and I feared the worst. I thought... you..."

"Cullen!" Mia shot around the corner, her expression serious and upset. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!" He stared at his older sister, uncertain on whether she was talking about his current situation, which made him suddenly uncomfortable, or what progressed last night. She strode right up to him, her face red with anger and ignored the woman whimpering in his arm. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?! Leave these madmen to the guards! That's not your job anymore!" She pointed at him accusingly as she spoke.

"They weren't madmen! They were _demons_ , Mia!" He quickly retorted in defense, a fury coming upon him and unintentionally grabbing Fawn's shirt tighter. He barely heard the youth echo the word in a measure of fear. "It doesn't matter if it's my job or not! They needed to be dealt with!"

"And you didn't think about getting help?! "Oh dear Guardsmen, could you help me deal with some demons? I'd really appreciate it." How hard can that be?!" She threw out her arms in dismay, "You got everyone worried sick!"

Cullen sighed heavily with a groan, "Look, I'm sorry! I wasn't expecting to find any in the forest!"

"Then what were you expecting?! _Hm?!_ " Mia crossed her arms defiantly, staring her brother down.

It was like she just slapped him in the face. It might have been preferable. What was he expecting? He darted off into those accursed woods with little forethought or plan, let alone expectations. He went in chasing his past - chasing a woman he only dreamed of meeting again. He told himself he went searching for the Wardens, searching for answers, to offer assistance if need be, but instead… he was left in the dark.

"I don't know." Cullen finally answered, his voice losing its bite. There was pain to his words and expression, his shoulders losing their stiffness. Fawn even moaned in concern and bowed her head down in thought, perhaps to think of something to do or say.

Mia gave him a worried look, losing her bite as well. With a heavy sigh, "What am I saying? I should have known you'd do something foolish at the first sign of trouble… What's important is that you're safe."

"I'm fine, Mia, you can stop worrying about me."

With a scoff, "Your right, I can, but I'm not going to."

Cullen sighed once more, though a bit more relieved. He then looked down to Fawn who was still huddled close to him. He gently pushed her off and held her at arms length, his hands upon her small shoulders, "Where is my horse now?"

"It's... at the Arl's keep." the waitress answered with minor startle, perhaps at his question and the thought of him going out again. He nodded his thanks and turned to head back inside his room. " _Um_..." Fawn moved to follow, but stopped at his door. She still looked worried. "Do you want me to bring up some breakfast?"

"No." Cullen answered solidly. When she shuddered, he realized he sounded harsher than meant. So he glanced back to her and spoke with a gentler tone, "Thank you." He then shut the door.

He sat down on the bed, the wood moaning quietly under his weight, and rubbed the temples of his forehead. As much as he wanted to go back to sleep, he knew it would be impossible. The sounds of the waking city would keep him from dozing off and the sunlight peeked through the shutters right on the pillow, right were his eyes would be. So he took a moment to think things through. To recall and diagnose everything that has occurred last night. What he needed was more information. Cullen donned his armor and got ready to head out, but didn't leave the tavern immediately, instead crossing the hall and stopping in front of the closed door to the dwarf's room. He didn't hear anything beyond it, but judging by the guards still positioned around the building, the merchant hadn't left yet. He knocked, loudly. There came some shuffling on the other side, a rude startle, followed by a long pause.

"W-Who is it?" the distant dwarf asked, his gravelly voice muffled even more by the wooden structure between them.

"Cullen Rutherford, formerly of the Inquisition. I'm looking into your case, but I'm going to need answers."

"Answers? Th-This isn't a questionnaire shop! Bugger off!"

Cullen sneered at the door in front of him. "I'm looking into your case," He repeated between clinched teeth. "I'm also a friend of Kath-!" He paused to correct himself, "- of the Hero of Ferelden... She was hunting a blood mage. Is that who's after you?"

"I said go away!"

Irritation was growing in the already upset man, his hands tightening into fists at his side. "A _blood mage_ is stalking the forest just outside the city, summoning demons and undead creatures, and **you** are their target. You are putting everyone here in danger, and I will not have it! Either you open this door and answer my questions, or I knock it down and force you to explain your situation to the entire town!"

There was a pause of silence before the merchant spoke again. He cursed quietly beforehand. "Wha- What do you want exactly?"

"For you to open this door, or do you expect to have a conversation through it?"

There was more cursing. Cullen heard footsteps approaching, slow and staggered. He then heard the scraping of heavy wood across the floor, furniture used to barricade the door, and then the iron clicks of the lock. The door cracked opened, a tired, somewhat panicked eye peering through the narrow opening to inspect the visitor. There were dark bags under that eye and Cullen knew the dwarf had yet to sleep.

After looking the stoic man up and down, perhaps satisfied in thinking him not an assassin or something, "I-I don't know what they want. I haven't done anything wrong. I'm just a merchant!"

"But they are after you? The maleficar?"

"Y-Yes." The dwarf glanced both ways down the hall, almost as if expecting something to jump out at the mere mention of the blood mage. "I was selling my wares when he approached, the blighter smelt of rotten eggs - I remember. He lit my caravan on fire and tried to do me in too! I barely escaped with my life!"

"Where did this happen?"

".. South of Denerim, on the road. I-I tried heading back to the capital, but the bastard cut me off!" Panic was beginning to return to the merchant, memories of the event scaring him. His weary eye was wide open for any signs of danger as he looked down the hall almost constantly at this point. He even ducked back in at the slightest sound. "E-Everywhere I went, he found me! There was nowhere to hide, I had to run!"

Cullen foiled his brow, "What about the Wardens? How did they get involved?"

"The- ... The Wardens, they saved my hide twice now. I thought they killed him the first time, but he… He got back up! He got back up." The dwarf began to mutter on the other side of the door, repeating "He got back up".

Fear was starting to overwhelm the poor dwarf, the door shaking from his trembling grip. Cullen decided he had asked enough, not wanting to push him too far, and walked way. He heard the door slam shut and the scrapping of wood return to block the door again. He made his way downstairs and outside. Fawn was there to greet him and had stepped up to him just before he exited, a weak smile on her still worried face and a tray in hand. Cullen glanced at the food presented and, with a sigh, accepted the offer - which brightened her smile. It would be unwise to continue forth without something in his stomach. Regardless, he did appreciate her act of kindness.

Cullen, along with Pup, made their climb towards the Arl's keep. It was located up a steep hill on the south side of the city, the path never a straight line and at times flanked by one or two cliff drops. He passed between two stone guard towers and connected bridge along the way, before eventually reaching the outer wall of the keep itself. It was a solid, fortified structure - parapets, battlements, and towers all around - with the main central keep and two other buildings inside. The gate was currently open and the patrolling guards did not halt his entry. He was a welcome guest here, if he recalled correctly, and if necessary he could request an audience with the Arl. Though he was curious as to why his horse was here and not down in the city stables or even in someone else's backyard. His horse was a fine breed, just as fast as she was hardy, and certainly worth quite a few sovereigns.

As he entered the open cobbled courtyard, the smell of dirt, stone, and lavender hit him. Framed pockets of grassy gardens and lavender bushes were kept in various locations - a show of elegance and class no doubt, providing little else aside from a more pleasant visit to the secluded keep. Cullen easily observed at least two dozen soldiers patrolling or standing guard, all of which in heavy plate armor of Veridium. He could hear a collection of large hounds, most likely mabari, over near the barracks and the stables flanked on the other side, the two long buildings leading the eye to the impressive keep. It was of smooth masonry, unlike the other two structures, with its pillars and archways decorative and its windows painted glass. It was a tall, square building with slender towers at its back and a steep curved roof. A double layered stairway led up to the entrance, with a statue of Andraste located on the middle break.

It was considered a remarkable and fashionable place to most Fereldens, but Cullen could see the flaws. There were noticeable gaps in the guard patrols, the height of the keep made it an easy target for siege weapons, there were areas of long shadows and narrow grooves to potentially hide it, there was a single well to combat any fires that may be started, and the courtyard could use a lot a work to make it more defensible. The General couldn't help but chuckle as he picked apart the Arl's fortification, his eyes naturally finding those details.

Pup let out a happy bark, before he sprinted forward in excitement. Cullen called after him, quickening his steps to chase down the dog. He grumbled under his breath, before slowing to a stop after turning the corner around one of the many gardens. He watched Pup bounce circles around the older mabari, playfully pawing and quietly boffing at him. The auburn dog was sitting calmly in the grass, panting lightly with a wide smile, not seeming to mind the more energetic dog. Kathryn was here too?! Cullen took in a deep breath, pushing back his hesitation and the twist in his gut. He came here for his horse, but perhaps he should seek her out as well? She could provide more solid answers to his questions, and she said she was willing to. Was she staying up here then? Taking advantage of the Arl's hospitality? She was an appointed noble, wasn't she? Cullen had nearly forgotten that part, actually only knowing so because of their mutual friend Leliana.

"Arlessa Kathryn Amell." Cullen said slowly under his breath. He chuckled at the sound of it, finding it strange to say. He preferred Warden or Hero - for that's what he saw her as. Though in truth, using her name was far more familiar and meaningful to him.

A curious whine brought his attention back to the present. He looked down to the graying mabari who was eyeing him. Perhaps saying her name turned its attention to him, the hound no doubt understood and recognized the words.

"May I… see her?" The question was more challenging to ask that he thought. He felt dryness in his throat and a flutter in his gut as he spoke. He nearly kicked himself, reminding himself he was here for a horse!

The mabari gave him a quiet response and began to lead him towards the keep. Pup bounced around the two of them, at least until the older dog gave him a stern huff, instantly settling the youth down. Cullen climbed the layered steps, pausing briefly to look on the statue of the Prophetess, and then pushed open the thick oak doors. The interior reflected the simple, but alluring decor outside. Colorful rugs ran along the stone floors, flowers and tapestries lined the walls, and decorative etchings were on pillars and archways. He could see servants and a handful of guards roaming about, the entry hall containing only two posted soldiers, and yet none of them bothered to greet or escort the General. His "guide" appeared to place him in its care and they all acknowledged it as so. The auburn hound huffed again, keeping his attention, and led him forward. They crossed to the north wing, passing a few closed doors and open studies, turning down the hall to end at an ajar door. Cullen could hear voices within, Kathryn's was one. There was another which sounded familiar and the third he did not know, though he had a heavy Orlesian accent.

He stood at the door for some time, not sure on how long, merely listening to the sounds of their voices. They were discussing tactics, risks and dangers, and how to handle the dwarven merchant and his chaser. At times one of their voices would rise, heat sparking with each word, as they argued about the situation. Kathryn and the Orlesian kept their cool. Cullen was able to recognize the subtle insults in the latter's words, thanks to his time in Orlais and having to endure the aristocracy, but he still doubted he caught them all.

"This is absurd! I've got men posted on every corner at every angle around the city! The culprit's not getting in! Period!"

"We are dealing with a blood mage, Capitaine, we must use every precaution at our disposal. He is dangerous, capable of summoning demons and perhaps even controlling one's mind. Is this something you truly believe your men can handle?"

The Guard Captain scoffed. "My men are the best damn trained soldiers you'll see in all of Ferelden! More than capable of handling _any_ mage, even your Commander." The comment was meant to shake Kathryn, even though it was the Orlesian he was addressing.

"Oh? Hm! Your men are quite incredible indeed, good ser. No doubt thanks to your leadership." The Orlesian continued to painlessly insult the man, obviously not believing the Captain's statement. "Perhaps we should leave this to him then, my Lady?"

"No." Kathryn said sternly, her tone interrupting any growing hostilities. "We have given our word to Barsk, we will not abandon him. And the City Guard is important in keeping that promise… Captain, underestimating this mage will put more people in danger. You cannot tell a maleficar by sight, he could easily blend in with the crowd - if he hasn't already done so. We need to be careful."

"He is just one man, Warden-Commander. Blood mage or not, there's only so much he can do." the Captain retorted.

At this point Cullen has heard enough. It was obvious the Guard Captain wasn't taking this serious enough, allowing his arrogance and/or incompetence to hinder the plans to stop the blood mage. People were at risk; the entire city was at risk. Yes, he was just one man, but Cullen has suffered mercilessly thanks to the doings of one man. He has seen the horrors one maleficar can bestow on a community, all the fear and pain they cause, which in turn feed the demons and abominations conjured from the Fade.

The General pushed open the door and entered with purpose. "And how do you plan on finding the blood mage, Captain?" Cullen asked coldly. He glared at the helmed officer, who in return shared similar disdain. Approaching the trio standing around the war table, "Do you plan on letting him work his accursed magic, to sacrifice someone to lure him out?"

"What are _you_ doing here?! You're not welcome!" the Captain glowered.

"How many people are going to die due to your incompetence?! To your inability to act?!" Cullen spat bitterness and growing hate, not necessarily for the man before him, but the blood magic threatening the city.

"Cut that tongue before I do it for you!" the Captain threatened, sliding his hand to the hilt of the sword on his hip. "You think yourself high and mighty... You are not the one in charge anymore! You think you know better than I on how to deal with this?!"

"Yes." His answer was solid and enough to teeter the Captain on the edge. "I have seen firsthand the devastation one mage can create, let alone a maleficar with a horde of demons and undead chained to them." Cullen stepped right up to him, challenging his command. "You are out of your league, Guard Captain."

"Out of my?- Blighter! I've enough of you! You have done nothing but overstep your bounds since you arrived!" The Captain pushed back in the challenge, stuffing a hard finger in the General's armored chest as he accused him. "A real pain in my neck! You're just an empty husk looking for purpose again, and you'll find none here! Now leave, before I **make** you leave."

"He stays." Kathryn said coolly.

The Captain spun and glared back at the woman, "He leaves! By my command-!"

" _ **No one**_ in this room is under your command, Captain." The intense glare she gave him pierced right through his armor, sending a visible shiver down his spine. The man even gulped. The hand on his weapon looked ready to draw it to defend himself from the Warden, not take on the challenging General. With finalization, "He stays."

There was a long pause of tense silence. The Guard Captain wanted to say something, to retort and use his authority, but instead he huffed and glared before leaving all together. He cursed and muttered angrily under his breath as he left, slamming the door behind him. There was another pause, though the intensity of the room quickly began to fade. One of the two hounds whined quietly - probably Pup. It was apparent that Kathryn had to choose between the city guards or the General. He was thankful and flattered she had chosen him. The Orlesian approached Cullen shortly after, his steel blue eyes observing the selected ally. He was an older gentleman, stark white hair slicked back and a well-trimmed beard on his broad jaw. He moved and stood with proud posture, just like those of Orlesian nobility, though not nearly as stuffy as some Cullen's encountered.

A smile moved the fluff of hair called a moustache. "Warden-Lieutenant Drake de' Leon." He introduced himself with a minor bow, one arm posed behind his lower back. "I have heard good things about you, General of the Inquisition, and it is a pleasure to have you on board - not many would volunteer for this type of work."

Cullen held back a scoff. "I am no longer a General, Lieutenant. Regardless, I'm not going to let a maleficar ruin anymore lives. It is something sadly too familiar."

"Sad indeed, but having another man of experience is invaluable. The Commander has also vouched for you."

Drake motioned towards Kathryn as he spoke of her, Cullen's eyes following the gesture. She had been eyeing him for a little while now he realized, her usual gentleness and warmth replaced with a far more serious and commanding feel. It was strange being under that authoritative gaze, but this was the Warden-Commander that was looking upon him, not the mage he used to know. Cullen dutifully gave her a respectful and appreciative salute and bow, acknowledging and accepting her position. The act seemed to surprise the woman, her stern expression disappearing when a chuckle and smile softened her to familiarity. Her eyes shyly drifted down to the maps and notes sprawled on the table before her.

"Shall I fill the General in on the details, my Lady?" Drake asked his commander.

Those emerald orbs lifted back up to the two, gently landing on him again. Cullen remained silent, in both respect and also response to her natural charm. Kathryn straightened from leaning over the table, "No. Leave that to me. I want you to wake the others and ready the horses."

"As you wish, my Lady." Drake bowed his head to her and then to Cullen. "General."

Drake made his exit, pausing only briefly to pat the two mabari sitting next to the door and closed it gently behind him. Cullen eventually stepped forward for the debriefing and to examine the papers laid on the table. As he assumed, they were maps of the city and neighboring lands, including the lumber yard, mine, and portions of the forest. There were markers and circles placed in strategic locations, the general layout indicating several ambush sites and choke points.

"Before I begin…" Kathryn started, waiting until he looked up at her, ensuring his attention before continuing, "I do appreciate your willingness to help, and I am sorry for turning you away earlier, but… just how far are you willing to go?"

Cullen stared at her for a few moments, trying to decipher the true meaning behind her question. He could tell there was something more to it. He decided to keep his answer simple, hoping perhaps she'd elaborate more later. "As far as I need to. You are chasing a dangerous adversary, and from what I overheard you are in need of more support. I can only offer my services, but you are familiar with what I can do. I will leave it up to you on how far you _need_ me to go."

A quiet sigh was released under her breath, he couldn't tell if it was one of relief or regret, but she gave him an agreeing nod. "Very well. I will be straight with you then. This maleficar has slipped through our fingers three times now and, in comparison, is perhaps just as powerful as Uldred." The name made one of Cullen's eyes twitch and his hands to close into fists. Painful and heated memories stirred in his mind, of the Enchanter that turned against the Circle and bathed it in blood and corruption. It also sparked a level of dread in him. He buried his contempt as Kathryn continued speaking, "He is obsessed with catching Barsk, the dwarven merchant, and the only thing appearing to slow him down is his subtlety."

"I've spoken with the dwarf, he said the mage was trying to kill him, not capture him."

"If that were true, then he would already be dead. Barsk has something that the mage wants, but we don't know what yet. He doesn't even know. He lost all his possessions and merchandise to the mage already, all he has is the clothing on his back."

Cullen mused over the information, suspicious on what a blood mage would want from a merchant. Information perhaps? Doubtful a sacrifice, he was going through too much trouble where there were easier targets - sadly. "Maybe he _had_ something. A magical artifact or important documents, perhaps?"

"We had speculated the same. He may have had a book, but Barsk insists he's never dealt in arcane items… Though just in case, I do have someone keeping an eye on him to see if he's hiding anything. In addition to keeping him safe of course." Kathryn stated, which surprised him somewhat.

For a moment she reminded him of Leliana - the thought of working in the shadows, never revealing her true purpose, being suspicious of everyone and everything. He had known Kathryn as a compassionate and, in truth, naive young woman. She always saw the brighter sides of people and would take great risks to "save" even the unsavory ones. There were a few times, he remembered back in the Circle, when she would get into trouble because she believed she was helping others. Where in truth they used her kind heart to their advantage. He wondered if she was ever aware of that fact, if her innocence played against her, because she was always willing to offer a helping hand. Now it appeared she'd learned that lesson, or at least enough to not go in defenseless. He could see it in her eyes, that guarded and quizzical look. He could sense that protective suit of armor around her heart, showing wear and tear from past experiences. She has seen the darker side of things, of people... Including himself. And yet…

"Why are you doing this?" he asked in relation to his thoughts, rather than the topic on hand.

"Why?" Kathryn was a bit puzzled by the question, arching a thin brow in response. "Because he needs our help. Someone is trying to do him harm and-"

"No. I mean…" Cullen sighed regretfully. He averted his eyes back to the papers, picking one up in pretend to read it. "Why are you letting me in? I haven't forgotten how we… parted. And I know I, hurt you."

There was a moment of silence and Cullen was afraid to look at her. He could imagine the look on her face, the buried pain, the sorrow, or even ignited anger. Thinking back to her question, 'how far he was willing to go', it made him wonder if she was questioning his trust. Or her trust in him. The way they parted, he didn't doubt either one of those.

"That was years ago, Cullen." She finally responded. There was no malice, no sorrow. It sounded… plain. "You came to me offering help and I accepted it. There is a blood mage that needs to be dealt with, and your training and experience will greatly increase our chances of removing him. Does it need to be more complicated than that?"

So business it was. Cullen felt both relieved and yet also disappointed by her response, knowing she has moved past it and sees this temporary partnership as little more than a solution to a problem. "No, it does not. My apologizes."

"Good. Let's focus on the situation at hand, shall we?" Kathryn inhaled gently, crossing her arms afterwards. "We have the maleficar's target secured, but not necessarily for the betterment of everyone else. At this current moment, we have two options available to us. We either keep him safe and secure in town, put the civilians at risk and use the city's defenses against the mage and reduce the damage he can do. It will be harder now if the Guard-Captain has his way. Or we leave and take Barsk with us, securing the safety of the people, while risking the lives of me and my men out in the environment where the mage has the greater advantage."

"Leaving a fortified location is rarely a good idea, and I have a few friends in the guard. But I understand your concerns in allowing a maleficar inside the walls... How many men do you have with you?"

"There are ten of us all together. Most are warriors, one of which a former Templar. There is one other mage aside from myself and a pair of scouts. Ignoring the incidents with this particular foe, roughly half of them have had encounters with demons or blood mages in the past."

Cullen tapped gently on the table as he thought it through, his eyes studying the markings on the maps. There were solid defensive positions marked, potentially luring in and trapping the mage with minimum risk to the people, but the risk was still there. In a blink of an eye the maleficar could unleash untold horror upon the city, desperation and fear pushing him over the edge. The chances of success were greater inside the city, but so were the chances of greater destruction. While luring the maleficar away greatly decreased the chances of success, but limited the damage to a very small number.

Ultimately, he had to ask: Who was more valuable? The people or the Wardens?

The decision wasn't an easy one, but it was quickly made. Cullen followed Kathryn back outside, their two hounds at their respectable sides. Upon opening the doors, the light of the late morning stung his eyes, his arm moving to block out the sun, and after the glare faded from his vision he saw only three other Wardens waiting in the courtyard below with lightly armored horses at the ready, packed for a long trip.

"Where are the rest of your men?" he asked as they climbed down the steps.

"Out in the forest. We've split our numbers to work two shifts throughout the day, attempting to exhaust the mage and weaken his position."

"Is that wise? Given your limited number as is?"

"Perhaps not, but before now we weren't trying to fully engage him."

The two moved over to the stables, the other Wardens standing near their mounts, and Cullen could see his horse there as well, packed and ready to go. He did take a moment to observe the other Wardens, recognizing them as those he fought beside the night before. The tall ex-Templar was staring him down, arms crossed and a sneer curling his pointed nose. The silent qunari stood like a statue, the large ox-man's skin stone grey and painted with red tattoos, his horns had been sawed off by the looks of it, and his long hair drifted below his shoulders. He wore no armor besides the blue and silver tabard down his torso and thick leather leggings, but he did have an impressive, colorful bow stringed on his back.

"Your horse, good ser. I've taken liberty of restoring her back to health." Drake presented as he approached.

An appreciable smile crossed his lips, "Thank you." Cullen took a moment to examine the condition of his horse, finding all her injuries missing, in addition to a few other things that made his smile gradually fade. There were tiny bows in her elegantly twisted mane and it looked like… sparkles in her fur? He had to avoid gawking in distaste. "Did you... braid her hair? And what is that smell?!"

" _Ah_ , that would be the rosemary ser. She was in much need of a bath after her ordeal, and she is the steed of someone important, no? She's got to look the part." The older man sounded very proud of his work.

Cullen groaned quietly under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was going to get a headache, for sure, due to the smell. It was strong enough he wondered if Drake used enough it could drown a small child in it. Regardless, he stepped up and mounted his steed, happy to have her back. Pup boffed with equal feelings down below.

"So what's the plan? Why we bringing Mr. Fluffy?" the Templar asked as he slowly rode up beside Kathryn, pointing a thumb back to the General as he spoke.

Cullen glared mildly at his back with a quiet huff of displeasure. He supposed the nickname was from the fur lining of his red surcoat, as he could not think of anything else that would make sense. His hair wasn't ruffled, was it? He fought the urge to comb a hand through it.

" _Mr. Fluffy_ is an old acquaintance and has agreed to lend his assistance. He was a Templar, much like you Hordin, and we could use his help." Kathryn answered nonchalantly in regards to Cullen's new nickname. "We are going to collect the merchant and regroup outside the city. Too many lives are at risk if he stays here."

"Sounds fun." Hordin snorted lightly and then turned back to Cullen. There was a more respectable look in his eyes now, perhaps due to their professional backgrounds. "You got a name brother?"

The term rubbed wrong on him, but he knew it was meant to bring fellowship. "It's Cullen."

"Cullen?!" Hordin gave him a wide eyed look and then instantly twisted his head back to Kathryn. "You mean-"

"Yes!" she interrupted with a snap, "And that's all we're going to hear about it."

There was warning in her tone, which Cullen did not understand, but it got Hordin laughing and snickering as the party began their descent back to town.


	2. Ch 2: Sinister Plots & Demons

When they returned to South Reach's proper, local heads turning in their direction and gawking at the elusive Wardens, they split into two groups. Cullen and Pup accompanied Drake to the tavern. He went to gather the remainder of his things, expecting the journey to take more than a day, while the Warden gathered his ally and the merchant. The aged Warden had to convince the hidden dwarf who he was before the door even opened, paranoia stronger in the sleepless victim, and then Cullen heard the bickering and cursing coming from across the hall - Barsk was obviously far less comfortable with the plan. He even slammed the door in Drake's face, locking it, to which the older gentleman sighed deeply and simply waited. Cullen soon made his way over to see if he could give any assistance, Pup cocking his head to the side in confusion.

By the time they arrived, however, he heard the door unlock and begin to creak open. Both he and Drake stood quietly in the hall as Barsk was escorted out of his room, a curved knife to his throat. The young Dalish elf hardly looked intimidating at first glance. She was a petite thing, with a mohawk of blonde hair braided down her back and large brown eyes that stole the term "doe eyes". But it was when those tarnished brown orbs turned to him, that Cullen saw the sharp, cold nature behind them. She was a killer, beyond a doubt, and there was no fear in them when she looked even him up and down. He felt as if she was exploiting all his weak points, finding those gaps in his defenses. And he didn't like it one bit.

"Thank you kindly, young one." Drake spoke as he accepted the dwarf in his hands. He put a firm grip on Barsk's shoulder, though it didn't look like the dwarf was going to chance running. Drake then turned to Cullen. " _Ah_ , excuse my rudeness. General, this is Maya. She is our-"

"Assassin." Cullen finished, keeping his eyes focused on the small woman before him.

"Well, I was going to say something far more fashionable, but you are accurate. Perhaps I shouldn't sound so surprised, given your former employment."

"Yes. Subtly was Leliana's specialty."

"Leliana? As in the Lady Nightingale herself?" Drake let out a bold chuckle. "You are full of surprises, good ser. Perhaps you are more familiar with Lady Kathryn than I originally believed."

Cullen dared to glance over to the older man at his comment. He wasn't surprised that the Wardens knew of Leliana, she was a dear friend to their commander, but how much did they know of him? Did Kathryn commonly mention him in conversation? And if so, for good or ill? His attention returned to the assassin as the elf began to move her hands and fingers in quick, symbolic ways. She was signing towards Drake and, judging by the look on her face, she was either confused or conflicted.

Drake let out another chuckle. "I strongly doubt that, young one. This one is different, I can tell."

Cullen foiled his brow at the man, feeling the subject aimed at him. Maya signed some more, short and poignant.

"Of course! Again, I am being rude, forgive me. This is General Cullen, formerly of the Inquisition." Drake motioned him in introduction, to which Cullen nodded his head slightly to the elf.

Maya's eyes widened and she blinked rapidly in surprise. That coldness she had vanished in a flash, replaced with an almost innocent and genuine look. For a moment, he thought she looked cute. She then stepped right up to him, bold and focused as she examined him far more closely, enough that he had to lean back. Cullen was far from comfortable, but at least it didn't feel like she was trying to tear him to pieces.

He put an arm between himself and her, pushing her away with some level of force, "I don't know what you're expecting to find, but-"

Maya took hold of his arm then, surprisingly strong for her size, and slowly turned his arm to reveal the insignia on his bracer - the Blade of Mercy. Her fingers began to gently trace the outline of the flaming sword, and her eyes again lifted to him, full of suspicion and speculation.

Accompanying a slightly annoyed sigh, Cullen gave her a hard look, "Yes, I was once a Templar. And no, I'm not going to hurt Kathryn or any other mage in your group. I am helping you deal with the maleficar to ensure the safety of the people."

Maya stared at him for several more seconds before she released his arm and stepped away. She turned to Drake and nodded with a measure of approval, to which the Warden snorted in a jovial way. Drake motioned for them to carry on, thus they took their leave, the dwarf muttering begrudgingly along. Barsk never once tried to flee however, his fear of the assassin far more than that of the maleficar - or so Cullen speculated. He wondered how long she had been keeping an eye on him. Since their arrival, most likely. Was she in the room with him the entire time without him knowing? That would defiantly say something about her skill, or Barsk's lack of perception. That would also mean she was present when Cullen came to question the dwarf earlier. An assassin in prime position to protect the dwarf against any danger, even if it wasn't the maleficar. It was a troubling thought because of how easily he could have been a target. How easily he could have possibly died.

When at last they approached the Eastern Gate, Cullen could see the three Wardens waiting for them patiently atop or near their horses. Kathryn was speaking with a few of the locals that came to question them, probably in curiosity or awe of the Order or the Hero herself. He didn't know how popular she was nowadays, but judging by how accustomed Drake and Hordin were back in the tavern the other night, this wasn't their first visit. Upon their arrival, most of the _fans_ backed off to observe the gathering party from a distance, garnering a few more onlookers to dissolve into gossip, but one rather familiar person remained.

"Mia! What are you doing here?" Cullen hurried his approach, able to keep his sudden fluster down. He didn't want his sister getting involved, or, subconsciously, figuring out his past connections with the Warden-Commander. Was she asking Kathryn about him? If they knew one another? How long have they been talking?!

She gave him a long stare, "Why didn't you say anything about working with the Wardens? Had you told us we wouldn't have been so worried. Poor Rose nearly had a meltdown." They were talking about the mission apparently, and that eased the General's worries.

Kathryn laughed quietly under her breath. "I do believe your brother is more a man of action, than words." Cullen nearly blanched. And apparently they've been talking long enough to share relations.

"That he is." Mia sighed begrudgingly. "And stubborn too. Probably worse than a mabari guard dog like yours." She motioned towards the hound, the auburn dog smiling as if proud of his position.

Kathryn chuckled knowingly as she stroked the large hound sitting beside her, averting her eyes away momentarily in an almost shy manner. Cullen heard Hordin snicker in the background and Drake clear his throat to silence the Templar. He felt as if he was missing something, an inside joke perhaps. Putting it aside for now, he began to ride onward. "Shouldn't we be going?" he asked the Warden-Commander with urgency to cover up his frustration.

"Are we in a hurry?" Mia huffed lightly. A knowing smirk was quick to form and she crossed her arms, "Or are you trying to avoid me _embarrassing_ you in front of your new friends?"

"Yes." he answered a bit too quickly, resenting it afterwards.

Mia looked ready to worsen the situation by adding more comments, but Kathryn rose a dismissive hand. "As much as I would love to stay and chat, he is correct." she stated with a warm smile on her glossy lips and agreeing nod. "We must be on our way."

"Alright. Just be careful out there." Mia looked to her younger brother first, worry still in her eyes, and then addressed the group as whole, "All of you. And I know my brother can be a handful, but please bring him home safely."

Cullen audibly groaned, pinching his nose in annoyance and embarrassment. He didn't need his sister looking out for him, he can do just fine on his own.

"You have my word." Kathryn promised with a small bow.

The Warden-Commander hopped back on her horse and led the others forward. Cullen waited for the group to catch up, though he wasn't that far to begin with, and then followed behind. They headed east back towards the Brecilian Forest, but turned south and followed along the outskirts when they arrived, picking up pace as they crossed the grassy landscape. They were on route to meet with the other Wardens, which Cullen was informed they had a camp not far out of town, and it was roughly two miles away when they began to follow a narrow stream up into the lingering forest, finally venturing into its depths.

It didn't take long for Cullen to remember the place, or at least the familiarity, as shifty shadows quickly fell upon them from the heavy canopy and thickening undergrowth. The terrain became slanted and rocky, though following the stream gave the horses an easier climb since it cut through the forest like a jagged scar. Some sunlight did spot the rough earth through small tears in the leaves above, providing enough ambient light to reveal the lush beauty around them. Bright moss coated the trunks of trees nearby and the smoothed rocks that surrounded the stream bed, he could see long sleeves of grass flowing gently underneath the bubbling water, low foliage such as clovers and patches of white mushrooms decorated most of the ground, and curls of lengthy vines sprawled across the floor and climbed on rock and wood alike. Some even sported tiny blossoms and large broad leaves. Ferns and other leafy plants, such as Elfroot and Embrium, also occupied the forest in abundance with the occasional Crystal Grace growing among the fallen logs.

"Kadan!" the qunari suddenly called from the rear.

Kathryn looked back to the large archer and then southward through the break in the canopy where he pointed. They all came to a sudden halt, noticing a flare of red light soar upwards into the sky. It hovered above the forest for a little bit, flashing gently, before it eventually began to fade. Cullen easily recognized it as a signal fire.

"Wh-What in the world is that?!" Barsk asked in frightful confusion.

"A call for help." Kathryn answered.

The Warden-Commander turned south and kicked her horse back into motion. Everyone followed without complaint, minus the dwarf who obviously wasn't accustomed to riding horses, racing in a full gallop into the thicket. The powerful mounts thundered across the landscape, kicking up grass and rock alike, they cleared fallen logs, and plowed through pools of murky water. The plant life became a blur of color and vague shapes in their rush, details of the environment limited only to what laid directly ahead of them.

"What are they doing so far south?!" Drake shouted over the passing wind.

"Maybe they did something right for once, and caught the mage!" Hordin jousted back, a wide grin on his face.

"Th-The mage?! You mean **that** blighter?!" Barsk snapped, "Are you stupid! T-Turn around! I thought you were trying to save me!" He pulled on Maya's hair like a rein to a horse, hoping to throw her off balance and to the ground, allowing him to gain control of the mount and ride away. Unfortunately, for him, that was not the case.

The agile Warden hissed and headbutted the man square in the nose, nearly knocking him off instead. She spun in her seat, the steed left to its own, and grabbed the dwarf by his collar, saving him from falling. She glared with such intensity and coldness the dwarf paled and could have froze over. The large archer soon sped up just behind and single-handily plucked the stout man from the elf's steed, saving him from her wrath. Barsk yelped in response, balling up in reaction, and was moved to the qunari's horse instead. He said something to the dwarf, too quiet to hear, but it was enough to settle the unfortunate merchant and ensure his silence at the very least.

"Above us!" the General warned when his eyes caught movement.

Further up the beaten trail, there came an incomplete arch of two rocky slopes, a fallen tree crossing between them and creating a bridge, and crawling atop that natural structure were undead monstrosities. Some had questionable bows in hand, others heavy stones, and he could hear them hissing with excitement as they drew closer. Their presence supported Hordin's claim, though the flare supported a more dire situation than the Templar proposed.

Kathryn glanced over her shoulder momentarily. "Cul!"

Cullen looked to her in minor confusion, wondering if she was referring to him with a new nickname, but that curiosity disappeared when her hound rushed forward. The old mabari sprinted ahead of the group far faster than he thought possible, the muscular beast running along the edge of the trail and onto the rocky incline. Even Pup seemed surprised by his speed and excitedly barked at him. Cullen ordered him to go after him, which the young mabari eagerly followed. He took off in a sprint, able to close some distance but couldn't quite keep up with the experienced hound.

"Shields up!" Drake commanded, bringing out his large round shield just in time to block an arrow.

Cullen and the Orlesian were the only ones with shields, he noted, thus he kicked his horse ahead of the group to give them that protection. He noticed Drake mimic his movements, Kathryn and the others now riding directly behind them. Withered arrows flew and he could hear their deep whistle as they zipped past, some bouncing off their shields or steeds armor, but most were far from accurate. The undead may have been marksmen in life, but that was not the case now - that or their damaged equipment ruined their aim. The real concern were the rocks the other undead were readying to throw down upon their heads. He and Drake could block the falling bludgeons, but the others were left vulnerable. That's where "Cul" and Pup came in. The two mabari practically ran up the rocky face and barreled through the line of undead. They toppled like bowling pins, flying off the edges to the ground far below. Many shattered on impact, their skeletal forms audibly popping apart at the joints. Those that didn't die were crushed under powerful hooves. Cullen could hear the _snap!_ of bone beneath him, along with the clang of their chainmail and the abrupt silence of their hisses. They cleared the archway in seconds, leaving behind only a few stragglers to be picked off by the archer in back, the two dogs rejoining them.

The pathway quickly curved out of sight, soon dipping them down and then up. Cullen was half expecting to find more enemies waiting for them, but nothing jumped out to greet his blade. They then found themselves racing alongside a growing cliff wall, portions of it hanging over head with dangling plants and roots, and they passed a wishful waterfall that cut down the rocky face, splashing some of its cool water on their faces. There was another bend, and then suddenly a blanket of death overwhelmed them. The smoke hit them hard, easily flying down their throats, choking them, and stinging their eyes with painful heat. The horses wailed in protest, threatening to throw off their riders as they skidded to a stop and fought against them in hopes of fleeing. Cullen could barely make out anything around them, struggling to keep his watering eyes open in the thick smoke, picking out only the orange glow of scattered fires and the furious blaze further in. The hungry heat scorched the earth black and consumed the trees in fiery pillars, devouring everything in between.

A swift tingle of magic washed over him like a refreshing evening breeze, the near invisible force sweeping away heat and ash and smoke. He instinctively looked back to the mage, his vision clearing enough to make out the woman who was no more than a handful of feet away. Kathryn held her Ironbark staff out to the side, the sharp crystal warped in the wood glowing white with a visible wind of magic swirling out of it. He could also see the borderline of her magic now, where the destructive hunger attempting to surround their party was kept at bay. They stood at the edge of the forest fire, its presence and strength unnatural, no end in sight of its reach.

Fighting the coughs still stuck in his throat, Drake motioned for them to move. "We must go around! _(Cough!)_ Find another way!"

"It will take too long!" the usually silent qunari spoke, he too pushing out the heat scorching his throat. "They will die!"

" **We're** gonna die if we go through!" Hordin argued back. Barsk tried to support the Nevarran's claim, but was overtaken with nasty hacking.

"No! We push forward!" Kathryn commanded, her solitary cemented in her powerful eyes - the magical glow ignited within strengthening her presence. "We haven't the time to find an alternate route." she spoke regrettably, knowing the risks in either case.

"But the horses!" Drake protested in fear of the harm it would cause their steeds.

"Blind them! And stick close!" Kathryn heard no more arguments and everyone quickly found or created scraps of cloth to wrap around their horse's eyes. "Hordin, Cullen!" she called out to them, her eyes landing on them respectively. "You two take the lead! And watch out for demons, I sense one near."

More demons, great. Cullen was less than excited and, given the current environment they found themselves in, he was betting the demon in question was one of Rage - a molting body of angry fire bent on destroying everything in its path for pure destruction sake. With a strong tug on the reins he got his horse moving again. Though removing the sight of danger helped in coping the beast forward, the smell of ash and smoke along with the roaring heat all around them was still enough to give her hesitation. He and Hordin took the front, both with blades at the ready and eyes glaring through the snapping flames and hazy smoke. They took the path of least resistance, moving quickly in fear of getting trapped by the fire. Kathryn kept the immediate dangers at bay, the woman strengthening her magic further as they raced across the ash covered land, but as they journeyed deeper into the smoldering bawls the heat grew all the more deadly. Sweat coated each of their faces and soaked their clothing. The weight of his armor felt heavier, and Cullen even began to think the metal was absorbing and storing the heat to where it was beginning to emit its own. They would not last long here, at most a handful of minutes, before the hot atmosphere choked them to death. So, he prayed that they would find their way out soon, back into clear, refreshing air.

"Look out!" Hordin called in warning.

Cullen pulled on the reins with all his might, the horse protesting and bucking in reaction. He managed to stop just in time as a tree consumed in fire plummeted in front of him, the loud crash coupled with splintering and puffs of soot. His horse nickered and jumped in fear, but he managed to keep her in check. Turning to Hordin, he nodded his appreciation.

"Shit! That was close!" the Nevarran cursed, barely dodging the collapsing tree himself.

"Are you two alright?!" Kathryn asked as she halted behind them.

"We're gonna get our asses lit on fire!" Hordin growled in humorous anger, "This was a mistake Kat!"

"There's no going back now!" Cullen was quick to point out, their entrance now lost to the blaze. His stern eyes turned to the Warden-Commander, "Kathryn, can you conjure something up to get rid of the fire?! Enough to clear us a path?!"

".. Yes!" she answered, though there was slight hesitation in her words. "It's going to get real cold!"

Drake pipped up, "Huddle time!" He sounded a little too eager about it as everyone drew closer, each of them grabbing another person's horse reins to maintain a secure circle. The two hounds were somewhere between the tall legs.

In the center of the group huddle, Kathryn brought forth her magical power, the glow in her eyes and the staff's crystal turning a pale blue with frosty edges. For a moment, her protective barrier faded, allowing the fiery rage to lick their skin, before a sudden rush of cold wind, snow, and ice spiraled outward from their position. The white mass surrounded them and chilled to the bone, the howling winds slapping against them like a painful whip. Cullen couldn't tell how far out the blizzard expanded, the twisting wall of winter's wrath blocking all sight beyond the group. It became far calmer within the eye of the storm, he noted, the passing wind dulling to cool brush strokes and the nip all but gone. Flakes of snow and ice drifted about, creating a sparkling effect around them. He watched the heat come off their armor, the vapors being pulled by the circling movement and adding more to the dazzle. It was all strangely majestic. And when his eyes landed on her, she was no less so. Kathryn looked even more beautiful with the snowy white backdrop, and her remarkable will and focus, always calm in appearance, was something he found so appealing about her. She made the most difficult and intense tasks look like summer walks.

Cullen caught himself staring, to which he swiftly looked elsewhere. He quietly eyed the others, hoping they weren't paying attention and thankful they hadn't, then turned his attention outward. The blizzard ended just as quickly as it began, leaving behind a frost kissed land of icy statues and foggy air. No fire burned close enough to feel and the wind was still cold enough to reveal their breaths as they released a hush of relieved sighs. The horses snorted and shook themselves of the frost clinging to their fur, as did the two mabari down below. A bold shiver ran down Maya's spine, her long hair swinging behind her wildly, and she had her arms tucked in close for warmth. The dwarf stuttered bitterly, his teeth chattering loudly together, and his eyes wide in mixed astonishment and concern. The qunari was unmoving, appearing immune to the passing effects of the magical weather. And Drake flexed his joints to free them of any stiffness, fussily dusting himself clean afterwards.

"M-Maker smite you F-Fereldens and your f-fucking cold!" Hordin cursed between shivering teeth. He let out a huff as he turned his horse around, leading on with a light frosty trail.

Cullen let out a quiet chuckle. "I didn't think it was that bad."

The comment got a chuckle out of Kathryn as well, the two sharing a knowing glance as they knew the true power behind the winter storms of their homeland. Her spell was light in comparison. They followed after the Templar and were quick to be on their way, having wasted enough time already. Unfortunately, it didn't take long for the fire and heat to return to them. The blizzard cleared them a path and saved from them certain doom back there, but it was hardly enough to coat the entirety of the forest fire. Nor was it something the Warden-Commander wanted to continue doing. It was not a mobile spell, she couldn't take it with them as they traveled, and stopping to cleanse the flames would only delay their much-needed arrival on the other side. Additionally, and debatably on a brighter note, movement soon graced them. More undead skeletons, only this time they were on fire and had actual melee weapons. And they were also accompanied by a brooding Rage demon. This either meant they were nearing their destination or were being lured into the center of a burning cage. Cullen was praying for the former.

" _Ahh. Finally, they arrive."_ The demon growled in angry relief. _"I've been_ _ **waiting**_ _to burn you all to ashes!"_

"Charming fellow, isn't he?" Drake commented nonchalantly.

Scoffing, "He's dead!" Hordin charged forward, much to his friends' discouragement.

They all charged forward. The undead hissed with fury, the burning corpses counter charging with all their screaming might. The demon released a bellowing growl and enlarged itself to twice its normal size, sequentially empowering all burning fires within the vicinity - from dwindling ashes to stoked blazes. The entire area lit up in a blinding light. Cullen had to squint to see even their general forms, the dark smudges fuzzy in the hot background. And then the two charging fronts hit one another. The collision would have favored the mounted forces, but with the timely flare of fire they were forced to shield themselves instead of deflect or impale their foes. Still, those undead that happened to be in their direct path were trampled by the powerful steeds. And then there was also Cul and Pup. The two mabari tore into the undead without fear of being burned. Even when their fur got singed or ashes got in their eyes, they did not back off. Fire licked them all over when they latched onto those screaming dead, entering even their mouths. Pup was the first to release his hold, licking his mouth in pain, his inexperience leaving him vulnerable. The undead clawed the young hound across the nose and brought forth its red-hot sword. Cul was quick to come to his aid, tackling the corpse to the ground and grabbing hold of its sword arm. Pup jumped back in, grabbing one of its kicking legs. And then they pulled.

The undead were faster than they looked, and strong too. Cullen blocked a mighty blow with his shield, feeling the pressure behind it, and used the momentum of his horse to throw the skeleton off balance, thus leaving it open to Kathryn's blow. The blunt end of her staff cracked the back side of its skull, literally sending it flying from its shoulders. Cullen beheaded another corpse in his way, doing his best to weave through the burning entrapment "safely". Drake made it look so easy, the older man guiding his horse with his legs alone while he cut open or bashed aside rows of enemies. He even gave it whistle commands, performing tight turns and sudden halts or bursts. The man was obviously a Chevalier in his youth. The General could hear Hordin yelling at the top of his lungs in the flaming distance, cursing in bitter rage. The Templar had also lost his horse somewhere, either he jumped or fell off it, and was now combating the demon head on. A circle of fire had sprung up around the duo, purposefully entrapping them. It was impossible to see how well he was faring, the heat and brightness of the fires blurring Cullen's vision - in addition to the demon itself. He knew how dangerous a Rage demon could be though, able to conjure up blasts of fire or pits of molten lava which also spat out fountains of flames. Not to mention its sheer presence was enough to heat metal.

A crackling hiss escaped the believed dead skeleton as it sat forward, swinging its two-handed weapon into the horse's legs. It cut deep, if not completely severing a hoof, the horse letting out a wail of pain as it toppled forward and sent the Warden-Commander flying. Kathryn let out a yell of surprise before she crashed, hearing a crack in there somewhere, and rolled. Her staff was thrown from her hands and she groaned in a mass of pain as she tried to get back up, coughing up a bit of ash and dirt as well.

"Kathryn!"

Cullen nearly snapped his horse's head backwards, sending her in a burst of protest as he tried to turn her around and race back to the Warden's side. A trio of undead were nearly upon her. Kathryn managed to push herself to one knee, lifting a bare arm to block an incoming blade. A magical shield of blue light came into reality when the sword made contact and then she unleashed a force of energy directly into the skeleton's gut with her free hand, blowing out its midsection and sending it flying back in pieces. The other two did not slow in their approach, unmoved by the dramatic death. Kathryn drew her shimmering blade and deflected a blow, twisting in her low position to block another, and swiftly cut across the front center of one, the magical energy ripping open its new wound and ultimately ended it. She ducked under the following attack, before bashing it away with her conjured shield, spinning it around. She didn't let it stumble far as she stepped forward and ran her blade through its backside. It hissed in exaggeration, before tumbling to the ground at her feet. Between deep breaths she released a hiss of pain, her arm clinging to her injured rib cage.

Another burning corpse rose to the challenge. She casually rose her bare hand in its direction, summoning the staff on the other side back to her. The sturdy weapon speared right through the corpse, the woman catching the weapon and spinning it in a solid grip as the undead collapsed. Cullen quickly rode over and offered a hand to the Warden-Commander. Her entire front was smudged with ash, a smear running cross-ways on her face. She sheathed her sword and accepted his hand without hesitation, climbing up behind him, cringing minorly. Cullen looked back to her with concern, but she ignored it and told him to "Go." So they went. No more undead stood directly in their way, only a towering wall of raging fire.

Kathryn once more called on her magical power, Cullen feeling the tingle and chill on his backside, and a wall of ice spiked through a portion of the fire, both energies canceling their oppositions. It was enough to create a gap wide enough for them to charge through and they arrived just in time to watch the demon toss Hordin in the air, the man landing hard on his back. The damnation wasn't laughing in enjoyment, but rather screaming in heated pain. To no surprise, the Templar had injured it greatly. The Rage demon brought its claws to its head, a vortex of fire forming between its two hands, aiming to fry the prone warrior. Hordin was quickly on his feet and used his heavy blade to block the incoming flames as it engulfed his entire body.

A cold grasp struck the raging demon, the chill causing it to shrill in pain and fright, one of its arms becoming completely consumed in ice crystals. Cullen rode forward and hacked off its frozen limb, causing the demon to cry out again. It wouldn't be long before its arm reformed, however, as the body of living fire and molten ooze congealed. Hordin took complete advantage of the open opportunity. The large weapon swung upward across the chilled abomination, cutting open its midsection and removing its other limb. The demon let out a roar of unending rage, before Hordin brought his greatsword down, severing it two. There was familiar energy behind his strike, Cullen saw, completely cutting the demon off from this world and ending its existence. The fiery form melted away into nothingness and everything controlled by its power also came to an end. The fires themselves died, leaving behind only smoldering patches of gently glowing ash. The danger was gone and they could finally take a moment to breathe.

Hordin was quick to break the silence, letting loose hearty laughter and snorts. " _Whoo!_ Yeah! What now, you burning pile of shit!" He kicked ash and stomped the ground where the demon once laid. "That'll teach you to mess with me! I'm a Maker-given Knight-Captain, Warden elite!"

" _Hordin_." Kathryn growled with irritation, the woman giving him a stern glare. "Your recklessness nearly got you killed! Again!"

"Nah! I'm fine. That demon barely touched me." He said casually, brushing some soot from his steaming armor.

Kathryn prodded him with the end of her staff, "I can see you peeling."

"Ow!" He flinched away, a hand moving to rub his sore. "Alright, alright! The skin's a little sensitive, okay?!"

" _No more running ahead_." she warned with clear authority.

Hordin blew hot air from his nose in a form of an irritable sigh. Muttering, "Yes, Commander."

Kathryn sighed before signaling everyone to round up. Cullen wanted to say something about the brash Templar, Kathryn was far more tolerant than he in terms of their command, but kept his mouth shut. It was not his place to interject. The group came together again, man and beast alike, and a cool wash of magic fell upon them. An aura of blue energy drifted outward from the mage, composed of a faint mist that softly caressed everyone's skin, healing wounds and soothing burns. Cullen watched as the tiny glowing particles so elegantly drifted through the air, landing and melting through his body like delicate snowflakes on warm skin. He had only received minor cuts and bruises, and they vanished without a second thought. Even the scrapes he got days ago disappeared and the dry burn in his throat from inhaling all the smoke melted away. He could breathe, and he willingly took in a deep breath of the refreshing magic.

"Thanks for the lift." Kathryn said quietly, trying to dull her irritation.

"Of course." He easily replied, understanding her position.

Cullen felt her weight press against his back and a hand on his shoulder, and he offered her his arm as she climbed down, to which she thanked him again. She hopped down and proceeded to head to her own steed. Drake was currently looking it over, checking its front leg. They needed to keep moving and if the horse wasn't able to continue… well, Cullen didn't know what exactly they would do - if they would abandon the creature or try to tend to it. Kathryn's magic appeared to have got it back on its feet, but the real damage was elsewhere. The horses were the ones that took the real beating in this ash and smoke filled terrain, breathing it all in, but hopefully her magic healed that like it did for him. The soot-covered Pup was quick to rejoin his side and he was more than happy to see the energetic hound unharmed. He would have reached down to pat him if he could.

With an approving nod from the Warden-Lieutenant, Kathryn mounted atop her steed once more and gave the order, sending everyone on the move again. The land was blackened for as far as Cullen could see and he didn't know which direction they needed to go, but the Wardens appeared sure in their travel. It did not take long for them to return to a full gallop, especially when sunlight touched their skin. The bright light was a heavenly thing peeking through the weakened canopy. After just escaping the hungry flames and choking blackness, Cullen felt as if he hadn't seen the sun in ages and he whispered a prayer to the Maker in gratitude. Even the long shadows of the forest were appealing to him now. Unfortunately, he could not dwell on the praises of his survival for turning the next bend he saw movement beyond the tree line, down in a low valley. The people in question were still too far away to make out any level of detail, he could only see their vague forms, but judging by how some of them moved it was another horde of undead on the offensive.

The horses raced through the charred remains of the forest thicket, popping out of the tree line and coming to a quick halt. A barren ravine cut through the forest like a haggard wound, separating the lush green from the crispy black, its walls too steep for the mounts to traverse safely, and down below Cullen saw a pair of Wardens, one a mage and the other a warrior, holding off against a number of scrambling corpses and demonic Shades. Bodies littered the ground all around them, most were vanquished skeletons, but some wore recognizable silver-blue armor. In the seconds it took to take in the visual information, the Grey Wardens leapt from their steeds and down the cliff. Drake was the only one to not follow. Barsk had let out a gasp and cry, first fearing he was going to be dragged down by the archer, but he was left behind to command the steed - which Cullen doubted he knew how.

"With me!" the Lieutenant ordered.

Cullen agreed. He felt sliding down the treacherous cliff side would be his undoing. No doubt he would lose his footing and tumble down like a rag doll, ending with broken bones and limbs, if not outright dead. He was nowhere as nimble or graceful as the Warden-Commander and the following rogues. The powerful archer and mage were even able to unleash their attacks on the distant foes as they flew down the earthy wall. It was surprising Hordin had gone with them, but he slid down on his back all the way, using his arms to stabilize himself. There was no grace in his descent and many rocks accompanied him.

Cullen followed Drake above the ravine, the other horses gathering behind like a natural herd. Not even Barsk tried to spit off with his "holder" no longer present. He did curse all the way though. The rugged edge eventually died to where the Warden-Lieutenant led them back into the shadows of the forest, following the downward curve of the landscape in attempts to find a way into the ravine to join their allies. They didn't know how far they needed to go, but prayed it was not far if they were needed. Cullen was concerned about the Wardens and he felt like he leaving them behind, but Drake appeared more sure than he in their capabilities. They moved with more caution than speed, looking for short cuts and safe passage. Eventually, they did locate a narrow groove that cut between two high walls downward. It was steep at times, giving the horses some trouble, but no where near as dangerous as the ravine itself.

The further they went, however, Cullen couldn't help but get a knot in his gut telling him something was wrong. Dreadfully wrong. Even Pup let out a growl of discomfort, his ears tucked back and crouched lower to the ground as if attempting to stalk something. He called out to Drake ahead of him, but his voice was silenced by the rumble of earth. The ground suddenly began to shake and quake beneath them, sending the horses in a panic - in addition to spreading fear into the riders. Rocks and dirt tumbled down upon them from the two walls pinning them in, jagged tears ripping through the earth like ravenous snakes.

"RUN!"

They kicked their horses into a frenzied gallop, racing through the rapidly crumbling land around them. They barely dodged large falling rocks, their shields offering minor protection, and the horses jumped or weaved around sudden protrusion that erupted from the quake and opening gaps. The path curved this way and then that, turning sharply as they rushed down a windy decline. They traversed the ravine wall now, their flight leading them down the narrow passage, rocks falling from above, rolling and "bouncing" off the face. A boulder crashed ahead of their fleeing party, smashing and completely destroying a portion of their walkway. They had no time to stop, no room to turn around, no chance to avoid it. The horses jumped. One by one they flew over the hole, the merchant screaming in terror, and each time one set of hooves hit the landing, it crumbled more of it away. The last two steeds didn't make it across, their wailing forms tumbling to their deaths.

The quake was following them, its unnatural creation following the will of the hidden enemy. Cullen could feel their sick eyes on him. The maleficar had led them into a trap, separating them from the main group and, more importantly, from the powerful Warden-Commander. If only he could see where he was! If he could locate the accursed mage and run him through! Drake called something out in warning, his voice muffled by the roar of the earth, and suddenly he tugged his horse sideways, leaping from the path out into the open air and down to the ground below. Without time to think, Cullen and Barsk followed, jumping just in time to escape a full mudslide of grinding rock and soil. Their horses landed hard, but kept running. They couldn't afford to stop yet, danger was still right on their heels. And then Cullen felt the tug of gravity on his backside, his horse rearing unintentionally, pulling them both down into an opening maw. Barsk screamed. The weightlessness of falling captured each of them, their cries for help swallowed by the darkness they plummeted into. Cullen watched in stricken horror, reaching helplessly for that light of day as it vanished above, his death certain.

* * *

Desolate, empty blackness grabbed him. It was hollow and cold. A vacuum of lost nothingness. There was no feeling, no caring, no purpose. Only meaningless existence.

"... up..."

Ripples in the vast bleak. Faint and pitiful. A whisper in the opaque dark. Hopelessness.

".. Cul-len…"

Echoes in the stillness. A wisp of movement. A touch of warmth.

"-len… Wake..."

A strange fixation. A stir, a purpose. It was slick, hard to grasp.

"... Wake up… Please..."

The darkness swirled to grey. The nothingness faded. There was numbness, stiffness, weight. A breath of air. Droplets, cool and refreshing. The moisture left a path of soothing sensations on his skin… Finally, a glow began to manifest into an orb of growing light. The feeling of warmth and soft comfort held his backside. And surging pain held everything else. Cullen groaned weakly as he stirred, his eyes fluttering open to see a vague shape lingering over him. The blur swayed and he fought to maintain consciousness, the unknown world spiraling around him. Another drop of water graced him, running slowly down his cheek and neck. Its touch soothed his mind, allowing him to regain control. The shadowed form above soon gained detail and color. He saw green - Brilliant, earthly green. He saw her eyes and they held him captive for the longest time. They were moist, rimmed with soft tears. He heard her gasp in relief, a sigh of air brushing over him.

"Kath-ryn?"

"Cullen." She spoke quietly, almost in a whisper. He felt her hand gently stroke his cheek, the warmth of her touch waking him, and a smile curved her full lips. "You're okay." The words were an equal message to herself as it was to him.

"What… happened?" A headache stung him then. A burning in the back of his skull. Again he groaned, his numb body once more gaining feeling.

Kathryn's smile weakened, a pause holding her back. "You fell into a trap set by the blood mage… You cracked your head on a rock, and I feared… you wouldn't wake up."

"And... Drake? The others?"

"Drake is alive, thank goodness." She sighed deeply in relief. "He is recovering, just as you are. I did what I could, but my magic can only do so much."

Cullen struggled to sit up, feeling the tingle in his previously numb arms and the burn reignite in his head. Kathryn placed a gentle hand on his bare chest, applying just enough pressure to hold him down. She looked like she wanted to say something, probably encouraging him to remain still and recover, but decided to simply smile at him instead. He watched her for a moment, noting that she was outside her armor as well, dressed in a simple blouse. His awareness became active enough to realize he was inside a pitched tent, lying atop a bed of furs and thick blankets, and the glow of a fire was just outside the closed flaps. He heard Hordin laugh in the distance, cocky and boisterous, along with the bay of two hounds. Pup was alive, and playful like usual.

"We're all okay." Kathryn said softly, as if able to read his worried thoughts. He felt her thumb stroke his exposed skin, the touch soft like silk. It began to make his heart race.

"What, became of… the maleficar?" Now his speech was impaired by fluster, instead of throbbing pain.

"Gone." She spoke with minor sharpness. "We managed to strike him down before... he..."

Kathryn glanced away, eyeing nothing in particular as she fought the returning tears. He recognized those tears as fear - fear of whatever the blood mage had in store for him and their allies. Cullen stared up at her in a measure of stun. He had never seen her cry before, and to see her in this weakened state… He lifted a hand to her face and caressed her soft cheek, the act turning her attention back to him. They locked eyes for several quiet moments, before he felt weight on his chest and barely acknowledged the closing distance between them. She leaned down and kissed him. Cullen felt his sudden surprise and fluster leave him. In fact, he may have helped lead her down. He accepted and returned the kiss equally, the hand he placed on her cheek sliding back into her weightless hair. She tasted… like sweetened yokes. It was hard to describe; all he knew was he wanted more. And she seemed more than happy to comply.

Again their lips met in gentle conflict, his arms wrapping fully around her shapely body. He felt her fingers move across his chest and her other hand get entangled in his own hair, the sensation coursing through his body like energy. He felt something lightly brush across his foot and up his shin, the sudden startle barely pulling him away from the moment. He dared to glance down, Kathryn taking the opportunity to kiss along his jawline. He saw nothing of note besides the tightness of her pants as his eyes traveled up her legs and paused on her perfectly sculpted bum. The woman quickly pulled him back to her and kissed deeply. Force was applied to their longing, she even bit his lower lip in lustful play. She had lost some of her sweet taste, but Cullen hardly cared. With her securely wrapped in his arms, he rolled, pulling her over his body and onto her back, pinning her under his weight as he fed on her generous lips. A knee separated her legs and she lifted one up his thigh, Cullen bringing a hand reflexively to hold it. He wanted nothing more than to embrace this urge. To indulge in her pleasant body. To feed this burning desire.

"Promise me..." She began, whispering sweet words between bitter kisses. "Promise me you'll stay."

Cullen slowly released his lips from her, lifting to his arms and opening his eyes to look down into those dangerous green orbs.

"Promise me… you won't let anything come between us."

Cullen stared down at her for mere seconds and he knew the answer. He recognized it all too well. He took in a deep breath and steeled himself. He stroked her face one last time before he let his hand slide down her neck, where he locked his fingers tightly in a choke hold. Startle played across her face and twitched throughout her body. Kathryn gagged, one hand reflexively grabbing his wrist in attempt to remove his grip while the other tried to push him away.

Cullen glared down at the false woman, fury and recognition alight. "No… You will not have me demon! Now get out of my head!"

The dark rings in violet seas blinked into existence, as did the pale color of her rough skin. And just as quickly as the demoness was revealed, she vanished in a puff of black smoke. Cullen felt himself falling again, the world around him melting away into nothingness. He spun in illusion, hollow darkness taking over once more, and the dull pain he felt intensified.

Cullen gasped as he woke in the real world, eyes wide open and skin cold against the stone. Agony shot across his entire body, forcing muffled screams from his lungs. He weakly hit the ground on which he lay, the act heating the pain in his side. He didn't care. Maker have mercy! He growled in furious frustration and guilt, a buried hatred returning to him. That pained him far more than his leg, his ribs, his arm, his skull… He had landed hard on his right side, a crushing weight just below the knee. He couldn't see a damn thing, but he could smell the rocky cavern coated in pitched darkness, dust caught in his nostrils. He reached down to figure out what trapped him and felt short, coarse fur and the hard leather casing of his saddle. No movement, not even air, came from the beast. She had taken the fall for him.

Swallowing a harsh curse, Cullen gave a soft prayer instead. But as he thought of his mount, other companions came to mind. "Pup? … Drake?!"

There came no response. He called for Barsk also, but again only got silence. Perhaps they had been knocked out just as he was moments ago, or worse yet, entrapped by the demoness. Living in some fake fantasy, a cruel illusion where they were nothing more than a pawn for their sinister mistress. The thought made the General growl, baring his teeth like a dog. He knew they had to be nearby, they were riding so close together he should be able to possibly reach them and wake them. He tried to stretch forward, but he immediately regretted it when smoldering pain snaked up him body, causing him to instantly recoil and hiss. There was nothing he could do in his current position, Cullen had to free himself. Steeling himself for the oncoming surge, he pushed up on the dead weight and began to pull on his leg. His hisses turned into loud agonizing screams. He could feel his skin tear and his nerves ignite, the splintered bones puncturing his sensitive tissue. After an extended draw beyond the scope of time, he finally pulled his leg free. The air that was released from his lungs was hardly of relief. Gently feeling down the length, he could feel the misalignment under his skin, but no blood or sharp protrusions. The leg was broken, the knee shattered perhaps.

Cullen slowly removed his other leg from over the horse and slid into a sitting position. His head began to spin, luckily the darkness around him dulling it to a controllable side effect, and he used his lost steed to steady himself. His elbow clanked against metal and as he felt its curved shape, he easily recognized it as his shield. He pulled it over the still warm corpse, biting through the sharp heat in his side, feeling its weight tenfold. Cullen took a moment to calm his breathing and ease the sway in his head. He tried to attune himself to his surroundings, relying on his other senses. He was underground. The cool earthy smell everywhere and the cold stone was dusted with a fine layer of dirt. He could hear faint drops of water echoing down an unseen tunnel and the minor groans of the ground still settling above him. He could feel a smooth incline near his feet, perhaps the making of a wall or just the unevenness of the floor. He remembered falling into a pit, a pit that opened right under their feet and swallowed them like a hungry maw.

Cullen crawled along the ground, moving forward - or at least the direction they were heading before they fell, and felt for his fallen comrade who was right ahead of him. For several excruciating seconds, he found nothing but loose dirt and broken rock pellets, but eventually he caught on something flexible and wrapped in metal. He cautiously examined the odd shaped object to count four armored fingers and a thumb.

"Lieutenant…" Cullen lightly breathed in relief. He had found him.

He dragged himself closer, moving to wake the older man from his torment, but as he followed up the length of the extended arm his shoulder hit solid stone. Cullen froze in place, the acknowledgement of the large boulder under his palm sinking in. Drake was dead.

Cullen prayed, having nothing else to do. "... By the will of Andraste... May you find yourself, at the Maker's side."

He closed his hand into a fist and fought his grief, using his rage to supplement it. Cullen turned back around, a bit too quickly for his body's liking, and searched for the dwarf who traveled at his rear. He fumbled over the corpse of the horse, but found the saddle empty. He searched further beyond, thinking that perhaps the stout man was thrown, but he couldn't find anything to suggest his whereabouts. With his current luck, Barsk was probably just out of his reach, displayed atop a boulder with a spray of blood undercoating him. Cullen called out in attempt that he'd hear him, that anyone would, but again he received no sign of life other than his own breath and heartbeat.

Despite the throbbing aches and searing pain striking his body like a bolt of lightning, Cullen forced himself to stand when at last he found the wall. He leaned heavily on the solid structure, keeping the weight off his useless leg, and slowly, very slowly, moved on. There was nothing for him here, nothing else he could do, he needed to find his way out and back to the Wardens. He needed to regroup and… inform them on what happened. He struggled past the rocks that buried the noble Orlesian, swallowing tears and screams alike. All he could do was hope. Hope that if he was leaving someone alive behind, that he could lead Kathryn back in time to save them. Hope that he wouldn't be trapped down here to die alone.

Time had become his enemy, dragging him through this hell with no sign of an end. Cullen traveled down this long, unbending hall of darkness with only the distant echo of water drops to lead him forward and his stubborn nature keeping him on his foot. As much as he wanted to sit down and rest, to ease his pain and mend his broken bones, he knew he couldn't afford it. As much as he believed the Wardens would search for him, he was almost certain none of them would look underground. He needed to get topside, at least there his scent would be cast out in the wind, possibly reaching the nose of any hound on the hunt. Cullen laughed weakly at the thought of digging his way out of the ground, like a waking corpse himself, to perch himself against a tree to wait out the remainder of his time until help found him. Until she returned to him and soothed his pain with her magical touch. The General fell silent as his mind trudged through such silly thoughts, but he did not shake them. He needed them. He needed something to keep him going, to find some sort of light in this penetrating darkness.

Kathryn was probably chasing down the blood mage, combating him in a frightening display of arcane power. Those who knew her back in the Circle probably wouldn't even recognize her now. She was supposed to be a healer, not a fighter. Trained in the school of Creation magic with only a few defensive spells to protect herself with. And now she was throwing Lightning bolts that could dry you inside out and Cold grasps that would leave you frozen in the height of summer. That staff was no longer a glorified walking stick, but a deadly weapon used with precision and crippling effect. She even learned how to wield a blade and handle the weight of armor. The Blight has forced her to take on a more aggressive role in terms of combat, but it did nothing to strip her need to help others.

That's why she was here, after all. Helping others. Helping Barsk, helping the people of South Reach, saving them from the tainted blood magic of a maleficar and his foul minions. She was putting her life on the line to lure that dangerous foe away. Even if she were alone, she wouldn't hesitate to draw his fire. She was a brave soul, more courageous than any mage Cullen has met. Not even Dorian, Solas, or Vivienne could compare. They'd all fall back to a more favorable position to themselves. Kathryn was her own kind of compassion, and he felt the need to feel it again. Cullen wanted to fall under her gaze once more, to be in her tender care right now. She could erase all his wounds with a simple smile, with a simple touch, with a simple act that was so natural to her. The warmth of her hands would match the warmth of her curved lips. The softness of her skin equal to the softness in her eyes… To feel the gentle touch of her fingertips caressing his broken bones and torn flesh, mending them back to health. To feel the tingle of her magic awaken every dull part of him and restore him back to glory. Cullen could almost feel her presence standing next to him, if not for…

The General snapped away from his trailing thoughts and swung his shield wide, its edge slicing through the empty air until it knocked against the stone now against his back. His heart raced and side throbbed, the sinister laughter too close for comfort as the invisible demon played.

"What's wrong, my pet? You look tired." Came the seductive voice of the Desire demon.

Cullen growled in response, shutting his mind off from the world.

"Those wounds look painful." Cullen could almost hear the smirk on her face. "You should rest… Don't worry, I'll take _good_ care of you. Shall I let you lie in my bosom, and ease that headache of yours?"

Cullen carefully listened. Not to her words, but to her movements. He could hear her gentle swaying in the air, when she slid her hand across her skin, and those claws that padded lightly across the ground. She danced on her toes, but it was enough to give away her position. In swift motion, his blade was released from its sheath and struck forward at the demoness. It hit only air as Cullen heard her dance out of the way, laughing. He crumbled to the ground, doing his best to keep his defenses up in his vulnerable state. He had launched himself from the wall in attempts to reach her, and bit back on his tongue when weight was applied to his broken leg.

" _Tsk tsk."_ Cullen could hear her slowly, more cautiously, circling. "My pet, you're only hurting yourself. As much as I _enjoy_ watching you _flex_ those _delicious_ muscles of yours, reaching beyond hope for something you cannot obtain…" She paused in her flaunt. He could feel those cold, lust filled eyes all over him and it turned his gut. "Aren't you tired of fighting? Tired of all this pain? I could ease this burden, if you let me."

Cullen twisted in his low position, swinging his blade behind him to catch the demon practically whispering in his ear. Again, he hit nothing and she laughed. She was playing with him, teasing him with her presence, hanging that lure just in front of him only to yank it away. Oh, how much he wanted to drive his sword into that black heart.

"Come, my pet. You cannot hope to win. Just give up and give in to what you have locked away." Cullen tightened his grip on his hilt, glaring into the shadows. "I _know_ what you want. What your heart truly _desires_. It shall be yours..." Her voice shifted to one far too familiar, "Cullen…" Kathryn's voice. "All you need to do, is welcome me in."

" _ **Go to hell."**_

" _Mmm_ … Such tenacity. I love it." She moaned in delight. "Won't you give me more? Let me feel that _heat_ of yours."

It was infuriating hearing her say those words using Kathryn's voice. To endure the seduction of falsehood. He could not deny the wrong thoughts that plagued him. The illusion of feeling her soft skin, to stroke her naked form. To taste her lips. To hear her pleasure. To lie atop her in sin.

"That's it, my pet, give in to what you desire. There is no shame in relishing in what you _deserve_."

Cullen felt himself slipping. His defenses failing him. A hand touched his shoulder and it slowly slid down his chest, it's touch somehow bypassing his armor. A second hand mimicked the act, ending with her hugging him from behind and he could feel her breath upon his neck, making his hair stand on end. He could see her now. That beautiful mage who captured his heart so long ago. His eyes met with hers and they begged for forgiveness. The demoness Kathryn gracefully slid in front of him, not once losing eye contact, and knelt down to his level. She purred oh so softly, bringing a hand to stroke his jaw.

"Kiss me, my pet." She subtly demanded. "Caress my body."

Cullen hesitantly placed a hand upon her hip, feeling the warmth of exposed skin. And he leaned in slowly to capture that desire.

" _Plunge_ yourself into me. _Claim_ me as your-!"

The sword plunged deep inside her alright, the blade dug all the way to the hilt where her blood oozed over his hand. It was black and had no temperature of its own, the liquid thick like oil. Cullen glared at the gasping demoness, the burning fire bright with disgust and hate.

"As I said," He growled without mercy. "You will not have me, _demon._ "

Cullen twisted the blade in her wilting form and sliced her open. He watched as the image of the mage faded to a pale horror, eyes dark and hollow, and hair of fire dying as she collapsed into the darkness. There was a soft thud, followed by silence. Blissful silence. He did not know how long he knelt on the ground, hovering over the unseen body in case it were to rise again, but no longer did whispers or impure thoughts worm its way into his mind. No longer did the air feel heavy or cold. No longer did his pain remain dormant. Cullen hissed as he nurtured his crippled leg, now feeling the pant cloth soaked with thick warmth. He feared moving now, else risk making it worse and perhaps unamendable.

 _Boff!_

Cullen spun his head to the side, hearing the echo of the sound, and glared down into that emptiness with fervor. Was that Pup? He was alive?! Hope began to grow, but as he listened for that Boff to return, he heard nothing. There came more silence with only the faint _plop_ of water droplets. He felt his heart sink, that hope fading. Another illusion. Another lie.

The General poked the ground before him with the tip of his blade, hearing it _tink!_ lightly against the stone. The body was gone. Either she returned to the Fade where she belongs, or she was not yet dead and he left a fool. With a disgruntled huff, Cullen slowly crawled backwards on the rough ground, dragging his leg as he sought the wall once more. He ignored the bellowing pain the best he could, trying to focus his attention on getting back up and **out** of this blighted place! The stubborn man pressed against the cold stone and inched his way back to his one working leg, trying to not move or touch the other. Slowly he began to limp along, practically sliding his foot against the ground instead of walking. It was exhausting, his chest hurting from his labored breaths. At one point his vision even blurred, risking a fall, but he rested his forehead against the cool rock for a moment to numb the threat. It seemed to work, but something else soon caught his weary senses.

A light. It was a soft golden hue, though it shone brightly in the opaque darkness he had become accustomed to. It stung his eyes, even at this distance, returning the blur and the dangerous sway. He fought to control it, gripping the sword he dared not to release in fear of the demon's return, feeling the tough hemp and hearing its sound under his glove. He tried to focus, to see through the blinding effect. He saw a form walking through a distant horizontal tunnel, the light outlining them from behind. He saw the glint of armor and the calm flare of a cloak.

Who was this person? Was it his rescue or another trap set by the demon? His hope wasn't as strong as it was earlier. Should he risk calling out to them if it were the demon, or another one? Or perhaps even the maleficar himself. _Heh._ Maker have mercy on him if it were so. He was in no shape to deal with any mage, much less a corrupted one. Cullen remained silent for the time, trying to remain hidden in the depth of the shadows as he assessed this new body. His sword betrayed him. The form turned in his direction when the light reflected ever so softly off its edge. Cullen cursed lightly under his breath, readying himself for yet another trial of suffering. If he could run he would have already, but he had no choice but to stand his ground as the figure approached. And then a second form appeared; shorter, longer, bulkier.

" _Boff!"_ That bark.

"Pup?" Cullen barely breathed.

" _Boff boff! Boff!"_ The hound ran towards him, the figure in back picking up speed as well.

As his vision slowly returned, the light growing brighter, its aura finally washing away the darkness that held him so tight, Cullen let out a relieved breath and let his shoulders slack. It **was** Pup, he was alive! And _she_ was real this time.

"Cullen!" Kathryn gasped.

The woman nearly paled to a horrible reminder and her eyes widening in shocked concern. But they were true. The color was real. The demon was way off in reflecting the brilliance in those orbs. Cullen tried to push himself from the wall, but hadn't the strength. Both sword and shield fell to the ground, clanking at his feet, and Pup nearly bound up on him. The powerful mabari had enough mind not to, thankfully, as he quickly noticed the man's poor state. Kathryn rushed to his side and that was when he collapsed. He fell into her waiting arms and they both toppled to the floor. Cullen barely recognized the cloth and metal pressed against his face, or the sweet musk of her body and the ash still upon it. Not even the whines of his own hound truly registered. All he knew was the safe feeling of being in her care again. His eyes shut to welcome peaceful rest, while he felt that cool refreshing mist fall on his sore body and numb away the pain. There came some movement, he felt his head sway and a weightlessness as he was lifted.

"We got you brother, we got you."

Hordin's words were faint in his mind, and they were the last he heard before he slipped into merciful slumber.


	3. Ch 3: His Name is Ser Cullen

When Cullen finally woke, propped up against cool stone, nighttime had taken ahold of the forest. If not for the campfire burning he would have opened his eyes to see only darkness once more. Thank the Maker that was not the case. The fire was kept low, but its glow cast an orange hue on his surroundings - picking out the details of the tree bark, warming the dull smooth stone, and enriching the heavy dark shadows. The forest choked them on two fronts and a sheer cliff cornered their back. They sat on elevated ground and had quite the view - almost romantic in a sense. Leaning his head back, trying to ease the crick in his neck, he saw a single tree latched onto the rocky cliff face above him, a blot against the sparkling night sky beyond. Perched in said tree, Cullen could vaguely make out the grey qunari keeping watch. He was like a gargoyle, silent and still, ever watchful and waiting to strike down any approaching foes.

Glancing around the confines of their hidden camp, Cullen saw only six other bodies - excluding the two dogs. The numbers weren't adding up. By all accounts, there should be three more. Hordin sat with another Warden around the fire, the stranger's arm held in a sling, keeping quiet as they tended to a small cooking pot. Maya was sleeping next to another female Warden not far from the fire, both wearing their lighter, stripped scaled tabard - their breastplate and other heavier armor pieces nearby. He spotted Kathryn lying only a handful of feet from himself, the woman resting her head on her large hound, the pair lost in heavy slumber. Judging by her position, it looked like she passed out from exhaustion. Perhaps from tending to all their wounds? His wounds? Glancing to his leg buried beneath a wool blanket, he could still feel a level of pain, but not the agony he felt previously, rather the stiff numbness from hours of motionless rest.

Cullen easily caught the last Warden working just ahead of him, centered towards the middle of group, the constant rhythm of the mortar and pestle breaking apart the silence of the night, but not the weight. The youth's attention was focused down at his work. The General found Pup sleeping beside him, curled up near his shield which rested against the stone wall, feeling his warmth pressed on his hip. He stared at his hound for a while, his mind wondering: What happened? How did he come to be here? He remembered pitch darkness, a haunting nightmare that nipped at him from all angles. He remembered falling into that pit, created unnaturally so, and Pup falling with him. Did the mabari crawl out of the nightmare before him, did he escape to find help and bring it back for him? Cullen smiled at the thought.

"You're awake."

Cullen turned to the new voice sitting across from him. He met two fiery eyes and a suspicious sneer. He did not need to look at him long to see the familiarity between this young Dalish and Maya. They were twins. Dusty blonde hair a mess and large eyes a tarnished brown, but unlike the assassin he bore markings of his elusive ancestors. A golden tattoo was proudly displayed upon his forehead, the whimsical tree framing his brow and its roots sprawling off his sheer nose. He also wore those tight, criss-crossing leggings Cullen has seen on many Dalish elves, no shoes included, and his leather guards had elegant, leafy etchings.

"Praise the Creators." the young elf mumbled with sarcasm. His eyes returned to the craft he was handling, mixing herbs in the clay mortar. Someone was a bit upset.

"How long was I out?" Cullen asked, feeling the dryness in his throat from being under for too long.

"Practically all day. The Commander refused to abandon you, letting the blood mage escape." He scoffed under his breath in distaste. Cullen couldn't tell if it was because of the maleficar or the decision made.

Ignoring the bite in the elf's voice, "She has my thanks… As do you, if you are the one who's been supplying the poultices."

The elf paused in his work, but did not lift his eyes. "I help make them, yes, but I am not a healer. Don't make the mistake of putting your life in my hands. I would have left you behind."

Cullen chuckled lightly, leaning his head back once more. "At least you're honest."

The young Warden looked up to him then. Cullen could feel him assessing him, trying to determine his thoughts and plans, maybe find something to exploit. In truth, he was still too tired and sore to think properly or coherently enough to plan anything. He was still trying to piece together all that happened this morning. He could vaguely remember being rescued and nothing between then and now obviously. He shifted in his seat, trying to lessen the numb pain in his butt, scooting closer to the wall to sit straight.

Cullen then recalled an important sect. "Where's the dwarf? Barsk?"

"Don't know. He was in your care, wasn't he?" The elf snipped lightly.

"He was riding behind me when we fell. Following Drake's lead." Cullen hissed back.

"And we all know where _he's_ at."

The General glared at the youth, matching his fire. He could feel the blame put on him, however wrong it was, but he couldn't help but wonder if that's how they all felt. His eyes drifted over the other Wardens, speculation growing in his mind. He was the outsider here, an unknown body working amongst a tight nit group. He last looked on Kathryn, that beautiful woman so lost in distant dreams. She was his only connection and perhaps, according to this elf, the only reason why he's still here. She didn't abandon him, to the discontent of others apparently. No doubt the others could hear their conversation, yet none of them rose in his defense. Their somber silence spoke many words.

The elf followed his gaze, before momentarily returning to his work. "How do you know the Commander?"

"I don't... I knew her as a Circle Mage."

" _Pff!_ " Was all he answered with. He either didn't know how to respond or didn't care to.

Cullen explained all the same, feeling he needed to if he were to gain any level of understanding or approval with the other Wardens. Though that second bit wasn't a high set bar. "We served together for roughly two years, before she was recruited into the Wardens. In the Circle she was… different, far from aggressive, naive even. Her only concerns were her studies, hoping to become a healer in both skill and magic… She didn't have to worry about the troubles of the world back then."

With a scoff, "So, what, you think the Wardens ruined her perfect life?"

"I think they woke her up." Cullen met the elf's stare, his comment startling the Dalish to a degree. He wasn't expecting that answer. "She was too innocent, to put it lightly. Too soft. Most would have overlooked her, would have never seen the fire that burns deep within… Perhaps not even herself, had she not left." There was a hint of sorrow in those last few words, the memory of her departure one of his earlier, more painful memories. He was relieved the elf didn't notice.

In a rant, "That's because the Circles are glossy prisons. The Chantry likes to keep mages suppressed while their Templars handle anyone who has an opinion otherwise. It's a form a slavery all in itself that either nobody notices or cares to acknowledge." There was poison dripping from his words, a hatred kindled within his eyes. "They claim to be protecting everyone from the terrors of magic, but it's _their_ _fault_ there's so much fear. They purposefully segregate mages with their rumors and lies, to keep them from fulfilling any real potential." Another rebellious mage, though he doubted this one spent any time in or around a Circle to know the full reality of how they worked. Cullen merely sighed in response.

"Knock it off kid." Hordin called from the campfire, "Look, we all know you're pro-mage and all " _down with the system"_ , but no one wants to wake up to your angry lectures."

"It's the truth! And if I have to stay here and fix this murderous shemlen, then I'll-!"

" **Hey!"** Hordin nearly roared, the suddenness of his snap and the glare he sent at the elf petrifying the youth momentarily. He even startled the warrior sitting next to him. With clarity, "He's **not** responsible. _Stop_ accusing people you don't even know."

"Oh and you know him?!" the elf snapped back, nearly throwing the pestle from his hand with a wide arm gesture. "How long have you served with him?! Is he your best friend from "Killing School"?!"

"Killing- What?!"

"Because he's a Templar you think he's a holy saint like yourself! Here to save everyone from us desperate mages!"

"Don't prove me right." Hordin warned with a glare, a hand tightening into a fist.

The Dalish shot to his feet, turning his full attention to the Nevarran, he even picked up the warped wooden staff that laid behind him. The injured Warden at the fire tried to intervene, tried to silence them using his own angry authority, but it only made things worse. In seconds the three were locked in a shouting match. Maya and the other woman, a dwarf, stirred from their slumber, the second struggling to her feet to get between them. Her words were too quiet to hear, her attempt too weak to calm the situation. Cullen remained quiet for as long as he could, trying to piece together the outrage. Something was clearly not being said.

" **Enough!"** The General yelled with clear authority it silenced everyone immediately.

All eyes turned to the injured man as he slowly pushed himself up on his feet, using the wall as support. Disregarding the numb pain, that burning feeling reigniting his lower limbs, it felt good to be back on his feet. His ass sure thanked him for it. Cullen glared at each of the others, reflecting a level of disapproval in some manner, though keeping his main focus on the elf standing before him.

"You are welcome to your own opinions, mage, but if you have something to say, say it to my face. Stop pretending to be the underdog where there isn't one." Pup growled lowly at his side, the mabari giving his support and also letting the young Dalish know to tread carefully. Cullen didn't unlock his stern glare from the elf.

Orin, he was called, pointed his staff at the General accusingly, "Fine! We're in this shithole because of you, Shemlen. You screwed us over. We should have left you behind!" Holding back a pained choke, "You let Drake die. He would still be breathing if you hadn't abandoned him!"

"I _didn't_ abandon him. He was already dead when I found him." Cullen defended.

The young mage said something in the elven tongue. An insult by the sounds of it. "Drake was alive! He called out to you!"

"What are you talking about?! He was _crushed_ beneath a rock!"

"When we found him, you know what he said?" Orin hissed, his sorrow buried by his hatred as he fought back the moisture growing in his eyes. "That you ignored him. Ignored his cries for help. Left him alone to die under that rock… You walked out with the maleficar, letting him take the dwarf. A _willing_ partner in his crime!"

Cullen stared at the elf in disbelief, which shortly turned into suspicion as the thought of a demon influencing the elf crossed his mind. He shook the thought away, not wanting that speculation to be the case. "By the name of Andraste, I would never do such a thing. I didn't find the maleficar, nonetheless help him! When I woke, there was no one-"

"You _killed_ him! Deny what you want, but we found him! We found out the truth!" Orin glared with such malice and intent, Cullen could feel his heat. He wanted to kill him, to take vengeance for his fallen comrade. "You betrayed his trust, our trust. You shouldn't be allowed to live after everything you've done."

" _I didn't kill Drake_." Cullen re-affirmed, his solidity and words true.

 **"Liar!"**

Orin spun his weapon around, a glow of fire producing around its head as magic entered the playing field. Cullen stiffened and instinctively reached for his weapons. Pup instantly came to his feet, letting out an aggressive bark. The hound would have tackled the Dalish had he gotten to him first. Instead, a _slap!_ echoed against the stone wall and out into the dark forest. Orin stumbled back, a hand reflexively placed upon his red cheek where Kathryn had slapped him. Silence befell the camp ground, everyone frozen in their reactive response, their breaths captured by the weight in the air.

"Ka.. Kat?" Orin's words were barely a whisper. He stared wide-eyed, a tear finally falling down his cheek, both shock and hurt clearly displayed on his face.

The Warden-Commander eyed all her men, the fierce look in her eyes keeping them quiet and still, examining their position in the aggravation. "I'm certain the blood mage would be pleased to see us tearing each other apart. Threatening our own allies. And while we point fingers and accuse one another for something beyond our control, he skips off into the sunset with his new-found prize, spilling blood wherever he chooses because we were too emotionally stuck on ourselves to realize he won!" The statement shook some of the Wardens, visibly. The Commander turned her eyes to the once-fiery youth, the elf flinching back. "I'm disappointed in you, Orin. We _don't_ attack those who are unable to defend themselves."

"H-He has a shield! And a sword!" Orin tried to deflect, pointing at the General who did have his sword and shield in hand - though far from appropriately ready.

"That's not what I'm talking about." Kathryn clarified, keeping her hard tone. "You accuse him of a crime he didn't commit, a crime he cannot defend himself against. He cannot properly recall what happened down there."

"But.. Drake-"

" _I know_. Do you think I would have saved him if I thought him responsible for Drake's death?" The question had a soft edge around the hard interior. Orin tried to muster an answer, but was only able to slack his shoulders and shake his head, eyes turned downward in a pint of shame. Kathryn continued, losing some of her bite, "I'm not asking you to like him, but to trust my judgement and decision. He's not the one we're looking for..." The Warden-Commander's eyes glanced to the rest of her party, "I think it's time we move on. The three of you," She motioned towards the trio who started the argument, "- need to go on a walk and clear your minds."

Orin and Hordin silently accepted the suggestion, but the third had to comment. "Commander, this outrage was between the two of them. They're the ones at fault here. I had tried to restore order, to get them back in line, nothing more." His grovel gained growls and glares from his fellow Wardens. It was obvious they didn't see him as the authority he believed himself to be.

"And in doing so only worsened the situation." Kathryn stated, crossing her arms as she stared down the injured Warden. "Walk, Sergeant."

The clean-cut, obvious once desk Sergeant grumbled under his breath, but remained wise enough to keep his mouth shut. He soon followed after the two. Kathryn then turned her attention to the rest of them in camp and instructed them to gather their gear and prepare to head out. It was better in the long run, Cullen thought, knowing that sleep would be nearly impossible now and any that was gotten would be fueled by wronged feelings. Plus, depending on where they contrasted with their target, their position had just been sacrificed. But despite all that, something was deeply troubling the General.

"Warden." He called to the firm, commanding woman standing a few feet away.

"I see you're on your feet. Good. Can you walk?" she asked with only a minor softness in her tone, addressing him like one of her own. Cullen did not readily respond, a bit taken back as he had to think about his physical condition for a moment. He still felt stiff. "Your leg is still healing. Take some time to stretch it out, we've got work to do."

As much as he agreed, he couldn't let the situation be. So many thoughts were running through his mind, so many questions. Something had happened back in that accursed pit, something he did not or could not recall. Drake's death… Steadying himself against the wall, Cullen didn't let the Warden escape him as she stepped away, "Kathryn… What's going on?"

An audible sigh escaped her, though she tried to keep it quiet. He even saw her shoulders bob low. She shook her head discontentedly and glanced over her shoulder back at him, "Nothing good… Three of my men are dead, Barsk was taken by the blood mage, and with your injury we were unable to give chase. The trail has gotten cold."

"And the rest of them believe I'm responsible." Cullen spoke it more as a statement than question, even if he felt differently.

Kathryn eyed him for a moment, analyzing him. "... Yes. And not without reason." Cullen snapped his full attention to her, confused and startled. "Drake _was_ alive when we found him. But his fate was sealed, there was nothing we could do for him."

"He… I thought..." Cullen breathed, almost shaking in disbelief and growing grief. His heart sank and his gut twisted. He felt like puking for a moment. "When... I couldn't see anything. But I found his hand, followed up his arm, then… Maker…" He brought a hand down his face, as if trying to wipe away the pain. "I had called out, earlier, but… I didn't hear anything. No one responded… I swear, I didn't know. _I didn't leave him to die_."

"I'm not the one you need to convince. I believe you."

Foiling his brow and shaking his head, "Why? How can you have so much faith in me? If everything they said was true, how-?"

"Not all of it is true, and I know you. You're not a murderer." she stated firmly as she fully turned to face him. Crossing her arms lightly, weakly, "Additionally, I found demonic residue on your blade Cullen… You were under the influence of a demon. Though from what I was told, not completely." The General was even more puzzled now, though he could easily recall the demoness that assailed him, unfortunately. Kathryn noted his reaction and clarified. "Asehan and Orin were the ones who heard Drake's last words. While Orin is quick to jump to conclusions, immediately placing blame where feasible, Asehan is an avid listener. He explained in full detail what was said… You were described as distant and unresponsive, your actions reflecting a different environment - as if you were in another world. Drake heard you call out for him. He watched... as everything unfolded."

"He… He could see me? It was pitch black." Cullen questioned, remembering how lost he was in that eternal darkness.

"No, it was not. The ground had opened, but was never sealed. You had been blinded."

"This doesn't make any sense. How so? Did the demon or mage...?"

"In speculation, I believe the demon was trying to keep you suspended, but having difficulties keeping you trapped in the Fade. You woke up, in theory, but the demon still had enough control to alter your senses. It took away your sight, placing you in a world of darkness as you say, and took away your hearing to block out what was really happening around you."

"Which was what?" Cullen growled lightly, irritation replacing his disbelief and regret.

Kathryn didn't want to answer, he could tell, but she knew he wouldn't let her go if she didn't. "The maleficar came and collected Barsk, placing some sort of spell on him, forcing him to follow. The mage also summoned a demon to… _play_ , was the word he used." There was disgust in that word, which Cullen full heartedly agreed with.

He tightened his grip on his sword, in reaction to the thought of the demoness. He didn't feel proud, even knowing he had resisted the demon and presumably saved the others from its sin - he didn't resist it enough! So much of what he endured, how much of it was a lie? How long did he remain a puppet? Cullen's attention shifted back over to Kathryn, "And what part did you play? Was it really you, who rescued me?"

"Yes. You had wandered through a narrow crevasse several meters away and into a natural chamber. If Pup hadn't led me to you, we might not have found you."

With a slightly disappointing, though accepting sigh, "I see… In any case, I am thankful for your help. And sorry, for your loss." He leaned his weapons back against the wall and stepped away, finally able to put his weight on both legs. He stumbled in her general direction. "If I were able, I would have tried to stop them - the maleficar. You know that."

"And then I'd have four bodies to burn instead." Kathryn stately bluntly, though not happily. The coldness of her statement seemed to have caught her by surprise. She figuratively kicked herself and sighed, "Sorry… I shouldn't have said that."

"… No, you're right." Cullen paused in his sentence, his mind venturing off track a little bit. He would have fought, no matter his condition, if it meant saving the lives of Drake and the others… But instead he was trapped. Trapped in some fantasy with a demon pretending to be someone he admired. Without truly thinking about it, words seeped from his mouth. "The demon… it was you."

"Excuse me?"

"It, _pretended_ to be you… Had it been someone else, then, maybe, I would have realized it sooner." Cullen kept his eyes low as he mumbled out the words, only afterwards recognizing them.

A silence befell them, the woman eyeing him quizzically with only minor surprise. There was recognition in those gleaming eyes, a knowledge of his hidden truths and feelings. She knew. Perhaps, she always knew… The thought shook him just as firmly as if she didn't. But what did it matter? His love was a fairy tale, little more. A toy to be played with by the most devious of souls. He would be better off letting it go… if only he could. Maker knows he's tried.

"If you…" she began, those first words seeming to drag in heart racing anticipation, "… If you are able, we need to pack up. We should get going."

Kathryn avoided direct eye contact in addition to the topic, as if ashamed. She had a look of guilt, as if she felt somehow responsible for his torture. Cullen parted his lips to try and reassure that that wasn't the case, but no words came out. He couldn't find them. He wanted to explain the fault was his own - his own weakness for her, but nothing came out. Instead he stood there, like a hollowed statue of a man.

The Warden-Commander went on to do her own thing, leaving him to complete the task issued for him. It was for the best, that she left him be... In time, Cullen stubbornly pulling his own weight, the group was packed and ready to move out, all evidence of their camp gone besides the markings left by the fire pit. The night would hold them for several more hours and roaming through the darkness was not something he was looking forward to. To his relief, when they gathered together a spell was placed upon them, enabling them to see in the dark. It was apparently the same magic they had on them when he first encountered the Wardens in the forest the other day, while they hunted for the maleficar and dealt with his undead.

It was strange seeing everything in hues of blues and greys, the true colors of the surrounding world changed as if bathed in constant moonlight. It was both placid and haunting. Everyone's skin was faded to a shade of blue, making them look like victims of the cold, and the two hounds appeared almost ghostly. Shadows were lessened, nearly erasing all the darkness in the area, which messed with his depth perception a little bit. And anything that reflected light was also dulled, giving the illusion of everyone wearing stone armor or some other sort of smooth hard material that wasn't metal. The plants appeared frozen in time, until bothered, their forms melded together as if one large mass. The trees looked almost flat with the lack of shadows, their towering forms less impressive.

Aside from the visual adjustment, everything was the same. The night was still cold, their puffs of warm air visible, the sounds of the nocturnal creatures awake all around, the hoots of owls and chirps of insects abundant, the swaying and rustling of the plants when they walked through, the gravel grinding under their boots, the pain in his knee as he marched… Additionally, there was a constant tickle of magic. Cullen felt it all over him, but it was the front of his skull that felt it the strongest. The magic was faint, and under most circumstances unrecognizable, but in the quiet atmosphere of the night it was hard to miss. It was harder to not resist it, to not give in to his years of Templar training. At one point, he had to ask Kathryn to cast it on him again, having accidently warded it off.

When at last the light of day arrived, and the spell removed, did Cullen feel some form of relief. He imagined the others were more accustomed to being under the effects of magic, given their leader, but it was something he still had to get used to. The warm sunrays were a blessing, and as those beams cut through the foliage and darkness, they brought life and color back to the world. The plants sparkled with liquid dew upon their leaves, the trees grew fuller and healthier, and the lovely songs of birds replaced the constant chitter of crickets. Warmth graced their skin, depth and detail returned to them, and their hours of marching halted.

"Good morning, Knight-Commander."

Hordin coughed, practically gagging on his oatmeal in reaction - though he wasn't the target of the greeting. Cullen looked up from his breakfast to the stout, though curvy dwarven woman as she approached. She would be considered attractive to many perhaps, with dark hair rolled up in a braided bun and skin a nice dusky color, though her overuse of makeup didn't appeal to him in the least. She had a cheerful smile on her face, its girth enhancing her round cheeks, but there was a hint of mischief in her brown eyes that betrayed her welcome.

"May I join you?" she asked, swaying her hips with arms behind her and leaning forward just enough.

" _Um_.. If you wish." Cullen replied, to which she eagerly sat close, real close, beside him on the fallen log currently being used as a bench. He suddenly felt uneasy.

Clearing his throat of his food, "Wait..( _cough_ ) Wait… Did she just call you Knight-Commander?" Hordin was sitting on his other side, a tear edging his eye from choking and pointing his spoon at him.

" _Aw_ , don't go and get jealous now, love." she teased with a playful grin.

Cullen glanced over to the cheerful woman, "How did you-?"

Interrupting with a giggle, "Silly, do you not remember me? Gabriella, the Lady of Bliss? Back in Kirkwall, the Blooming Rose? You came asking questions, and I offered all the _wrong_ answers. And _suggestions_." Cullen nearly blushed, understanding her previous employment though only vaguely getting an idea on who she was. There were so many investigations back then, he could hardly place a single one ending with questioning people of her… past repertoire. "I suppose you were Knight-Captain back then, but when Meredith went off the deep end you had to have taken her spot, right? A real nut-job that one."

"She was not always that way, but you are correct. However, with the Chantry in ruins I was never-"

"It's quite alright." she interrupted again, waving a dismissive hand. He wondered if she did this intentionally or not. "We can keep it a secret between us, okay?"

Cullen tried not to groan or sigh at her wink. "Is there something you nee-?"

"Please, call me Gabbie. That's what everyone else calls me. Though, _you_ can also call me Gabe, or _Babe,_ if you like." She giggled with flirtatious play, and stroked her own cheek in similar fashion. Cullen could not hold back his groan then, and it got Hordin snickering. Gabbie ignored his obvious discomfort, "Anywho, yes, I was coming to see how you were doing. You had quite the stressful situation, I heard. Enough to give the Commander pause and m'lady _rarely_ pauses. And I'm sorry about little Orin. He's young and bold, believes he can take on the world. A typical boy, you know? Unlike a grown _man_ like yourself, of course. You can handle almost anything. But I do understand these _long nights_ , so far from home, can be quite hard for a strong fighter like yourself. I'm more than happy to serve and give you any support you need."

Was she hitting on him? Trying to get him to… Cullen tried not to noticeable recoil away, but he did shift uncomfortably. "I, _uh_ … No, I'm fine. Thank you." He managed out, clearing his throat afterwards.

"Oh?" Gabbie giggled again, her eyes flickering to Hordin. "How 'bout you, love? Do you need any nightly support?"

"Nah. I'm good." The Nevarran was unphased by the woman's advances, having returned to his thick meal of soggy oats.

With an overzealous sigh of disappointment, "Oh, such a shame. I hear you Templars are _quite_ the wrestlers, if you know what I mean?" Neither Cullen or Hordin replied, both preferring to return to their food. Gabbie continued, "I also hear that someone, in particular, is looking for a good wrestling match too. _Excluding_ myself, of course."

Cullen couldn't help but glance around the camp, subtly, spotting only Maya sitting with Asehan, who he couldn't tell if he was sleeping or not, and the Sergeant keeping watch in the distance, though giving a lot of attention to combing his _boyish_ hair. None of them were who the dwarf silently insinuated, he believed.

"Really? I thought you enjoyed _including_ yourself in everything?" Hordin jested lightly, almost sarcastically.

The dwarf giggled, cupping her chin in her palms, "You know me too well, love. What I wouldn't _give_ so either of you, or better yet, _both of you_ to go wrestle. Oh, how I would enjoy watching you two work out some stress together."

Hordin began laughing again, though trying to keep it contained as to not spit out his mouth full of food. Cullen let out an irritable groan, tightly gripping his bowl in equal displeasure, "Can you two have this conversation when I'm _not_ in the middle of it?"

"Oh, poor thing. Am I making you uncomfortable?" Gabbie cooed, trying to give him big puppy eyes - or something.

"Yes." Cullen bluntly answered.

Hordin snorted, "I don't think he's used to such adverse treatment. Maybe be a little less forward, huh?"

"Or not at all." Cullen grumbled under his breath, not caring whether they heard or not.

"Of course love. I'll tone it down so not to drive him away, Kathryn would be _devastated_ if such a thing happened." Gabbie sighed gently, a hand placed upon her chest when she spoke of the Warden-Commander, insinuating a level of deep care or pity. The General dared to glance down at the dwarven woman, to which she easily noticed and made him look away quickly. He only hoped she didn't catch his interest in her statement. She had. With a playful gleam and hum, "Now that I mention it... I do believe m'lady was asking for you, sweetie." Gabbie straightened her back and tilted her head, hands perched elegantly atop her tightly kept knees. "She was down by the water, last I saw."

This was a trap, had to be, and Cullen wasn't about to fall for it. "I'll speak with her when she returns."

A pout flashed upon her face, but she quickly bounced back. "It sounded urgent, sweetie. I wouldn't keep her waiting. It's rude to keep a lady waiting."

"If it was urgent, she'd come spe-"

"Damn it, man!" Gabbie growled almost threatening, getting up near his face and startling him, "Go talk to the woman already! Give her a big manly hug or something!"

Cullen shrank back, despite the fact that he was twice her size, "E-Excuse me? Why would- I mean, this is hardly the time."

"Now is the perfect time! _Gah!_ " The dwarf looked ready to pull out her own hair, growling in frustration. She jumped to her feet and spun in front of him, hands on her hips and eyes firm. All her flirtatious nature was gone. "Listen, sweetie, she needs your support. Can you not see how much pain she's in?"

"Of course I do. What I'm confused about is why you're asking _me_?" Cullen shot back with equal weight.

"Cause you're a friend! She stood up for you! Cause you're not a Warden! She needs someone to vent to, who isn't already involved!" Cullen was about to debate that last part, but she didn't let him get a word in. "Cause she named her blighted dog after you! Don't you think that accounts for something?!"

Cullen stared at her in stunned silence. Cul? Did she really name her hound after him? … Maybe, there had been hints. Everyone's reaction when they first heard his name. The way Kathryn reacted when his sister compared him to a mabari. And the dog did look familiar, was it the same one that accompanied her back to the Circle? Back when she still thought him innocent? … The General remained quiet as he mused over it, his eyes eventually looking to the others for support. Maya and Asehan were silent, as usual, but he could tell Maya agreed with Gabbie at least. The assassin smiled with an encouraging nod. The Sergeant was off in his own world, not paying any attention to what was happening behind him. And Hordin…

"She's right, brother." the Templar stated with a smile of his own, though there was sadness it in. He was worried about Kathryn too. "You're the only one who can probably get Kat to open up. She tries to act tough, to stay strong for the rest of us, to keep us looking forward… She tends to forget about herself."

Cullen did not question that. It was in her character, her compassion. It was nice, seeing how much they cared about Kathryn. About each other. They were good friends, and with the loss of some of their own, he recognized the pain they were all suffering. Cullen accepted the suggestion and came to his feet, setting his half-empty meal down. He rubbed the back of his neck in sudden awkwardness, feeling all eyes on him as he made his way towards the low stream not too far off, ignoring some hushed commentary.

The throbbing in his leg didn't deter him from his course, the man climbing the short, but steep decline just beyond the tree line. He nearly slipped once, but caught himself on a slim tree and pulled himself up. The rough terrain and thick undergrowth gave way to a bed of grass and smooth rock that flanked gently moving water, the ground leveling out in a gentle slope. It wasn't hard to spot the woman, or her dog. Kathryn was crouched at the water's edge, softly splashing the cool liquid on her face and the back of her neck - probably trying to ease the stress or exhaustion of everything that's happened. Her hair was down, he noticed, those dark strains hanging over one shoulder and dangling just above the stream. It was longer than he remembered... She looked beautiful, but also, dreary.

"Cullen…" she said softly, somberly, causing the man to hesitate in his approach, "What are you doing?"

The General struggled to find the right words to answer, but it didn't take long to figure out it wasn't him she was actually talking to. The auburn hound raised his head from under the water, the tail of a small fish wiggling out one side of his mouth. It got a weak chuckle from the woman, and the hound literally swallowed the creature whole and went back to fishing. Pup, the ever thick headed dog, was quick to join him, _Boffing_ and splashing into the water with vigor. His arrival startled Kathryn from her distant thoughts and she almost immediately turned to find his counterpart.

Cullen couldn't help but smile at her. "This is going to get confusing, if you keep using his real name."

A visible blush crossed her face in embarrassment and she was quick to glance away. It was adorable. " _Ah_ … I guess it was only a matter of time, before you found out. Sorry."

"Don't apologize. I'm flattered. Honored to share the same name of such a noble beast." He said honestly, making a slow approach to not appear overbearing, and also to try and hide his limp. "Though surprised, as well. I wouldn't have thought you'd have named him after me."

"Yes, well… he's been with me for a long time. Didn't feel like changing it." Her attempt to play it off as a joke failed. She even tried to chuckle and shrug it off as such, but it was weak. Kathryn realized it too. Cullen could tell she was trying to bury her emotion pain. With a sigh, she came to her feet, using the moisture clinging to her hand to stroke back some hair from her face. "Truthfully… It reminds me of better times. Back in the Circle."

Better times? Guilt hit Cullen in the gut like an iron fist and he nearly stumbled. How was then better than now? The way he had treated her when... when she only came to help. The way the other Templars so easily disregarded her life, sending her into the fire. How, no matter the amount of good she did, she would always be seen as a demon in waiting? Was her mistreated life more appealing than what she lives today?

His stiff silence must have caught her attention. "Before, _that_." She corrected, easily piecing together his thoughts.

It was astonishing how perceptive she was, how effortlessly she made connections or read someone. Or maybe it was just with him. "That must have.. altered your view of the name."

"No, not really." She said quietly, acknowledging his worried tone. She looked away, her eyes drawn to the active hounds. With arms lightly crossed and a smile daring to form as she watched the dogs play, "... His full name is _Ser_ Cullen. I named him after a Templar I knew, since they shared similar responsibilities. He keeps an eye on me, makes sure I don't do anything overly stupid, and keeps me safe from harm. It was something I felt a Templar would do, when I named him."

Holding back a laugh, both proud and shamed, "A good Templar, you mean. I was hardly the case."

"Are we talking about the same person here?" Kathryn's asked with a subtle laugh, glancing his way momentarily. "The Cullen I knew, was very good at his job. He was responsible, honest, just… sweet. He knew his duties and he knew when to act. The man had saved my life once."

A fluster tickled him and his cheeks threatened to redden, but he fought it down. He could retort and argue about his behavior and how much it was altered, but... 'The man had saved my life once.' It was true. Though probably not as romantic as one might think. If she was referring to the memory that crossed his mind, back when she got injured and he _happened_ to be nearby.

He remembered, Kathryn and Jowan would collect books to further study back in their quarters. Her weary friend, once upon a time an okay man before blood magic ruined him, never liked working in the open libraries. He was fearful of his "protectors", unlike the young woman he often followed around. The two of them were in a hurry that day, Cullen could not recall why or if he even knew to begin with, but it was their haste the ultimately hurt them - Kathryn in particular. He remembered she was trying to reach a book located towards the top of one of the towering bookcases, and Jowan was not being helpful. The mage whined and complained, continuously asking Kathryn to leave it behind so they could get back to their rooms. She wasn't going to leave it. She could be quite stubborn herself, Cullen thought and chuckled at. He remembered she grabbed a stool to stand on, and was up on the tip of her toes attempting to reach that prized book. As a Templar, he wasn't supposed to give any assistance to the mages, to interact in friendly manners - even though he and Kathryn did on occasion. He could recall other Templars making snide comments, questioning if and when she was going to fall, or why she wasn't using magic to help. He could hear their secret desire for her to take the plunge, and it silently upset him.

And then it happened. Cullen could remember her yelp clearly, the sharp snap of the stool, the blur of her body as it plummeted, followed by her cry… It was spine shivering, heart aching, even thinking about it now. A piece of the stool, one of the legs he believed, has pierced right through her thigh and blood splattered everywhere. He was there in a blink of an eye. He had picked her up in his arms, trying to offer some form of comfort - no one else was. Jowan was frozen in shock and the other Templars weren't nearly concerned for her well-being as he was. He remembered yelling at Jowan, snapping him out of his stun, and eventually the mage ran off to get help. The other Templars did take action, one of them applying pressure on her messy wound while the other kept all the apprentices at bay. Some of the Enchanters came to offer aid, but it was First Enchanter Irving who applied healing when he arrived.

It had happened so fast, yet Cullen could remember it felt like an eternity. One moment she was fine, and the next she was bleeding and crying in his arms. He felt fear, guilt, remorse... If he had acted sooner, had he at least warned her of the danger or offered some assistance. But no, regulations spoke against it. The mages were to handle their own, the Templars were merely there to keep them safe from dangerous magic - not normal life. She had thanked him, he recalled, but her words were so quiet, so weak, he barely heard her. Back then, he thought it was because she was in so much pain and hadn't the strength to speak, but thinking on it now, she may have been trying to conceal their friendlier attitude towards one another too, worried the others would hear.

Cullen chuckled lightly at the memory, at the pleasing act of 'saving her life'. "You really wanted that book."

"Of course I did. Do you know how hard it is to study without a source? Nearly impossible."

"You would have figured it out, I'm sure."

" _Heh._ Your confidence in me is over rated."

"Is it?" He asked sincerely, holding a smile that he wasn't fully aware of. He walked closer, limping ever so slightly, "You had specialized solely in healing magic, focused on how to tend wounds on the side lines. Now you're a charismatic leader, gaining loyalty from your followers. You've learned new spells appropriate for your, _dangerous_ field, and even learned how to use a sword. Exactly how much of that came from a book?"

Now it was the Warden who was flattered, her cheeks flushing ever so lightly. A smirk did soon cross her ripe lips and when she turned to face him, she placed a hand firmly on his chest and pushed. "Sit."

Cullen stumbled more out of surprise than lack of balance, though his foot did find a large rock behind him, tripping him to a degree as he fell onto it. He leaned more than sat thanks to its size and angle.

Kathryn's captivating gaze slowly lowered, as did her hand, which Cullen followed with his own eyes. "You're right. I learned most of that through trial and error, through hands on experience... But that doesn't mean it was easy." Kathryn knelt before him, almost between his legs, immediately causing a bright blush to flash upon his face as immature thoughts sprung to life. To his relief, she gently examined his kneecap, her fingers tracing its form and applying just enough pressure to find its sensitive spots. She had noticed his limp. "I'm still specialized as a healer. All my flashy tricks pale in comparison."

Cullen muffled a groan as she massaged his knee, enduring the sour sting. He believed her for the most part, but felt she was also being modest. His eyes continued to focus on Kathryn's hands as she worked, feeling the heat of cold enter as frost soon coated her fingertips, and, additionally, push out all those inappropriate thoughts. It burned at first, but the cold quickly began to numb and relax his tense muscles. He started paying closer attention to her left hand, where she was missing a portion of a finger. It made him wonder how she got the wound. It was obviously one of the few injuries she could not fix.

"A Genlock." she said. Cullen snapped his attention to her, catching her gaze and realizing she had noticed where his thoughts lingered. "A Genlock bit it off when we were traversing the Deep Roads. Nasty bastard."

"A Genlock? Is that a darkspawn?" He felt silly asking it, but he knew very little about the monsters living below. Even during the Blight, he had only encountered a few of the ugly things.

Her hands continued to massage his knee. "Is it. One of the short stocky ones. They make common scouts and assassin types. That one jumped out of the shadows and caught my hand - it regretted it afterwards, but took my finger in return."

Cullen had the strange urge to pick up her hand and kiss it, where the darkspawn had stolen that piece of her. He felt his hand flinch in action to follow through, but he stopped himself before anything happened, gripping the rock with his fingers. Besides, he'd probably just get frostbite on his lips from doing so.

"Kathryn…" he began, though a bit unsure on how to ask his rising question.

"Yes?"

"Do you... like being a Warden?" he managed to spit out, sounding more empathetic than expected. Kathryn looked a bit bewildered by it, causing her to pause in her work. "I don't mean to cause you more grief, Maker knows that's the last thing I want, but… do you regret it? Leaving the Circle to become a Warden?" If he recalled correctly, she was hesitant of the offer when it occurred.

Kathryn lowered her gaze, her mind searching for the right answer as it sorted through uncountable thoughts. Her life has been anything but simple and plain. She was thrown out of a sheltered life, where she could become the trained healer she always wanted to be, into a world torn apart by war and betrayal. The first thing she experienced as a Warden was the devastation at Ostagar. Cullen could only imagine how that painted her new life, how it squandered her hopes and dreams, and stabbed at her core.

"There are days… where I think of "what ifs". If I had stayed in the Circle, where would I be now? Would I be teaching apprentices the art of magic, maybe reach the rank of First Enchanter...? Or would I have perished during Uldred's uprising or the following war?" Kathryn said with a level of somber, not sounding too thrilled about any of the suggestions. "Becoming a Warden has allowed me to travel and see the world as it truly is, not glorified through books and stories. As dark as it is, there is much light to be found. I find pleasure in knowing that." A smile slowly broke through, calming her to a far more appealing woman. She then continued to work on his knee, her fingers gently caressing the rounded surface, drawing imaginary shapes on him. "I have been to so many places, seen so many things. And I was never alone. No matter the danger, I had friends there to support me and guide me forward. Despite _pain-numbing_ trials and unforgettable losses, the Wardens let me go where I am needed most - healing the people of Thedas. How can I regret that?"

Cullen sighed with relieved satisfaction. He wanted to kiss her, to show her how much he admired her strength and heart. He leaned down, able to butt her head if wanted and rested his arms on his legs in a relaxed fashion, ignoring the growing urge. Gratefully, "I hoped you would say that… When I left the Templars, I went through a similar dilemma. I had questioned if it was worth it in the end. I like the think so. To think I came out better for it. Joining the Inquisition was the best decision I've made in a long time, and I was proud, happy, to be a part of it…" Cullen's smile faded a little bit, thinking about his time in Kirkwall. "Serving the Order, there were things that brought me shame, many actions I regret taking. I caused a lot of unjustified pain, made poor decisions. It was best that I leave that kind of life, not just for my benefit."

Kathryn stroked his knee in a level of compassion and her eyes reflected very much the same. He didn't see any disapproval in those bright orbs, no negativity. "Our mistakes make us who we are… The way I like to think of it: One should be willing to feel the weight of their burden, but not let it drag them down. I'm glad you found a place in the Inquisition, that you were able to move forward and do what makes you happy... That makes me very happy."

The General stared at her in awe for a moment, his cheeks warm, the truth of her statement sinking in, before recognizing his gawking position and letting a laugh clear it away. Though he did glance away shyly, "I've forgotten how good of a sweet-talker you are."

That got a laugh from her, though he wasn't entirely sure it was because of his comment or reaction. "Hey." She sounded almost too sweet.

Cullen dared to look back at her. She came up and forward pretty quickly, her movement catching him off guard, but it was when he felt her lips against his skin, no more than an inch from his own mouth… His face lite up and his heart stuttered. He could barely breathe as she pressed her kiss on his cheek, a hand gently touching the other to keep his face from moving - though he practically froze in place.

"Thanks for the talk." she whispered softly when she backed away.

No clear thoughts could generate in his mind for many of seconds. He was lost in a stupor of wishful possibilities and logical doubts, merely staring at her… the woman barely a foot away, holding that warm, gentle smile. Before he knew it, he slowly rose a hand to stroke her cheek. His fingertips brushed across her skin, rising upwards as he tucked some loose strains of hair behind her ear. He barely acknowledged Kathryn's own surprise due to his actions. He barely, also, faintly realized he had leaned closer, his eyes focused on capturing her moist lips, to kiss her.

"YEAH!" The boisterous cheer shattered the harmonic atmosphere and the two of them jumped in reaction to the startle. Hordin?! He was watching them?! The Nevarran had thrown his arms up in the air in a grand celebration, "That's how it's done!"

"YOU IDIOT!" Gabbie yelled in fiery complaint, appearing from the shadows and literally knocking him to the ground in displeasure. "Now you've ruined it!"

Apparently, the two of them had been hiding in the tree line, spying on them. Cullen didn't know why, nor could he generate enough logic to justify their actions. All he knew was the awkwardness and embarrassment that held him. He could only imagine how red his face was, he sure could feel the heat. Kathryn was doing better than him, to no real surprise.

With only lightly colored cheeks, "What are you two doing?" There was a gentle snip to her question, her eyes daring the two Wardens to lie.

"Nothing. Just, _uh_... lying on the ground here." Hordin said, trying to sound nonchalant as he laid prone where he fell, his head bent strangely and shoulder digging into the gravel.

Gabbie spun around to address the Warden-Commander, who at this point had crossed her arms in disapproval. Clearing her throat and clapping her hands together in apology, "Sorry m'lady. We were just making sure sweetie here didn't screw up and say something horribly mean or something." Cullen grimaced at the comment. "Luckily, he got a smile on your face instead and a welcome kiss. Guess he's _more_ of a friend than we originally thought. More than what _you_ told us, anyways." There was a subtle hint of mischief in her final words, along with that coy smile and almost provocative gleam.

Kathryn arched a thin brow to the dwarf's explanation, "Gabbie, if me kissing him in appreciation automatically means we're involved, then what does that say about your love life?"

Gabbie giggled fervently, "That I've got too many to count! And I'm involved with everyone here!"

Cullen couldn't help but snort at the comment. It was strange. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, how he almost kissed her, and the topic, the insinuation of he and Kathryn as a couple, it was easy for him to brush it aside. Kathryn's calm demeanor was the key, as if she had this unseen aura that generated soothing relaxation. It felt as if everything was under control, that no matter the hardship they would come out fine. That woman could defuse any situation. He didn't know if it was because of her confidence or optimism, but he believed they both played a part in it.

The General placed a gentle hand on Kathryn's side to catch her attention and silently direct her to step back. She was right in front of him, after all, and he needed room to stand up. She didn't flinch or pull away from his touch, in fact… it was almost as if she welcomed it. Cullen tried to shake the thoughts away, figuring they were from his own imagination, but her smile did not help deter them. When he managed back to his feet, he paused as he realized he felt no pain. No stiffness or numbness. He flexed his knee in a level of surprise and relief, able to move it freely and put full weight on it as if nothing was ever wrong. A pleased chuckle escaped him. Kathryn gave him a look, signifying the strength of her knowledge and skill as a healer. Cullen quietly thanked her, to which she accepted with a graceful nod. He couldn't help but eye her lips for a moment, the desire to feel them again or taste them for himself flashing before him. But he was wise enough, and resolved enough, to push that longing aside and keep it all to himself. Too many eyes were watching now.

"Commander." Orin called from further down the stream, the sound of his voice in sharp contrast to the conversation on their end. It was disconcerting. The elf looked paler than normal, and couldn't even muster a true glare at the General when their eyes met.

"Orin? Did you find something?" the Warden-Commander asked with a level of unease. She had sent him off earlier in the day to scout.

"I-I _._.. I found the dwarf. But…" The young Dalish looked downward, his shoulders stiffened and his hands gripped tighter on his warped staff. "We were, too late."

Barsk was dead. Killed by the maleficar or his demonic pets. There came a gasp from behind, it sounded like Gabbie. Kathryn had let out a remorseful sigh. She then began to make her way towards the young elf, taking the time to put her hair back up - it was time to get back to work. They shared no words as Orin led them onward, towards the scene of the crime.

Cullen wished he hadn't seen it. The grotesque nature of the murder. Worse yet, he wished he didn't recognize it so easily. Orin had led everyone to a hollowed out point in some rock no more than two miles from camp, at first appearance it could have been mistaken for an animal den… but inside, they stood in a pool of blood at least two inches deep. Skulls and other bones, most still soft with flesh, protruded from the thick liquid, a mix of animal and humanoid. The stench was horrid and flies dominated the scattered remains. Even the walls were painted red. Blood seeped down the rough stone from wide splatter and the crudely written words: Stolen Icon, Red, Yes Mistress, & Sacrifice. And in center display, was the dwarven merchant Barsk. At least what was left of him. The misshapen body was lurched backwards, his head and spine ripped from his torso to extend far off the shoulders, his arms broken in several places and twisted to face the wrong direction, and his ribcage looked like it was torn out and then stabbed back into him. Barsk's eyes were rolled into the back of his head and his face forever plastered in frightful agony… His death, was not a quick one.

Gabbie had ran from the scene just as soon as she entered. The poor dwarven woman proceeding to retch in the bushes. Orin refused to step inside again, having already seen the horror. And after seeing it for themselves, no one else wished to enter a second time either. Only one person was brave enough to remain with the body, and Cullen even doubted Kathryn's strong will would last long.

"Shit. Shit shit shit…" Hordin cursed as he paced back and forth in the small opening in front of the cave. "Maker! This is-! ... What the hell have we gotten ourselves into?"

"We?!" The Sergeant growled lowly, the obviously uneasy man standing with his hands readily on his weapon and shield. "This was your idea! You're the one who led us on this accursed chase!"

"What, so it's my fault now?!" Hordin spat at the ground near the man's feet and pointed at him accusingly. "You know, I'm getting real sick and tired of your Ass-ery Kyle! Why don't you grow some balls and stop placing blame on everyone but yourself, _huh_?! You're a part of this just as much as everyone else!"

"No! I'm here to kill darkspawn and maintain order! Order that you like to usurp, just as badly as the knife-ear!" The racial insult got a glare from both elven twins and the qunari as well. The Sergeant continued to sneer at Hordin, "You forget what organization you fight for! You were kicked out of the Templar Order, remember?!"

" _I left_ , there's a difference." the former Knight-Captain hissed between clenched teeth and tightening fists.

" _Abandoned_ , is more like it."

The two of them proceeded to delve into argument, just bordering on throwing punches. Orin remained quiet, not taking part in the argument probably because he was still in shock of the grisly scene he stumbled upon. Maya sat there beside him, giving him quiet reassurance with her presence and arms hugging over his shoulders. Asehan was further from the group, crouched down as he examined the landscape. He looked like the only one working, or perhaps just keeping his mind distracted. Gabbie had found a spot to sit down far from the cave entrance, trying to ease her twisted gut and mumbling quietly to herself. Cullen had made his way over to her and placed a hand upon her shoulder. The act, though it first startled her, was enough to calm her down and ease the tears that were edging her eyes. And when Pup came over, she enveloped him in a desperate hug. Cul was sitting patiently, loyally waiting just outside the cave entrance for Kathryn's return.

Asehan soon made his way over to Cullen, the grey qunari giving him a respectful head bow - from what he could tell. "There are tracks, General. No more than a day old."

"The maleficar's?" To which the qunari nodded. Cullen's attention glanced over to the cave, wondering what Kathryn was still doing in there, but his focus soon turned to the arguing duo. He called out, but they did not hear the first time. So he made sure they heard him the second time. " **Quiet!** Both of you!"

If not for the interference, Hordin looked ready to punch the Sergeant. Instead the Templar stepped back, while spitting on the ground in irritation.

"What now?! Who put _you_ in charge?! Stay out of-!" Kyle began to retort and grumble.

" _I said_ _ **quiet**_ _."_ Cullen threatened, his intense glare enough to give the man pause. "This is hardly the time for your petty squabbles. It's time to start acting like soldiers and get your heads back in the game…" Taking his usual pose, hand resting casually upon the hilt of his sword and standing tall, insinuating himself as a ranking officer, "Asehan has found a trail to follow. The blood mage is not far ahead of us. We were lucky in finding his hideout and we can't afford to lose track of him now. Else we find another cave like this one." He gestured towards the blood-soaked cavern as he spoke.

With a strained laugh, "So you suggest we chase after this guy? Pretend to be _Templars_?" Kyle asked with obvious disdain and un-eagerness to continue the hunt. "We're Grey Wardens! We don't deal with this kind of shit!"

"No. You're Kathryn's Grey Wardens." Cullen corrected. "By following her, your job is not limited to dealing with a single problem. Even I knew that much before signing up for this. Darkspawn or not, we're going to fix the problem. We can't ignore something like this."

"By the Creators..." Orin mumbled irritably, quietly, in the background and came to his feet. "He's right. Our job is to help people, no matter what." With a level of fire returning to him, "You saw what he did in there. What he'll do to others! We can let that happen! He needs to be stopped!" Cullen was pleased to hear the elf agree with him, for once.

Maya came up beside her brother, eyes full of equal fury and determination, and her hands began moving in quick rhythm, signing her own elaborate message. The Sergeant grimaced and paled even.

"Ouch… Talk about harsh." Hordin commented, followed by a painful groan.

Cullen didn't really want to know, but it was obvious the Sergeant was fighting a losing battle. The man was out of his element, trying desperately to convince everyone to abandon their mission and return home or at least tackle an enemy he knew how to fight. Cullen doubted magic made Kyle uncomfortable, given he was traveling with two mages and was commonly under their spells, but perhaps it was Blood Magic that spooked him. It wouldn't be a surprise. It was forbidden for many reasons, that cave over there naming one. For a moment, he sympathized with the edgy Warden, but what could he do but encourage him to move forward and trust in his fellows? Cullen knew little about the people he traveled with, but he had to trust his life to them. The Sergeant must do the same, else he may end up like the unfortunate merchant.

"I-I can't believe this! This is not _your_ call!" Kyle spat out, trying to find a good defense. Crossing his arms, as if in finalization, "The decision is the Commander's! Your argument is mute."

Cullen sighed in frustration, but his attention soon turned to Kathryn as she made her exit, her movement catching his eye. She no doubt heard the conversation, none of them were being particularly quiet about it - minus Maya. The Warden-Commander remained quiet though as she scanned the situation blankly. There was wear in her eyes, Cullen noticed, her brilliant color almost dulled and her stance was not as strong as usual. She was troubled, exhausted maybe. Whatever reason kept her inside that cave, it caused him to worry.

Inhaling and shaking her head, as if returning to reality, "Asehan. Lead us on."

And that was that. The qunari quietly took point and everyone followed suit. The Sergeant wanted to protest, everyone could see it, how his body tensed up, but he locked his jaw shut and quietly stepped in line. Gabbie stayed close to Pup, the mabari allowing her to use him as mental and emotional support. Hordin had strode up next to Kathryn and placed a hand on her back, whispering something to her. Despite being unable to hear, Cullen could tell he was checking on her. Giving her reassurance and support. Kathryn gave him a smile, thanking him for his effort and tried to casually sweep away his concerns. A pint of jealousy entered the scene, upon witness their friendly act, but the General pushed it aside with his logic. It was absurd! Nothing pointed to those two being involved or interested in one another. Hordin was just worried for her, nothing more… But why did he place his hand there? In the small of her back?

Cullen swallowed that concern and marched on. They marched and marched, hour after hour and nothing changed. Asehan kept on the path like a predator following a blood trail, pausing only to check the earth for signs of change. They were traveling deeper into the Brecilian Forest. The trees were growing bigger, the underbrush richer, and the animals more abundant. Small critters and birds could be found everywhere. Herds of Halla frolicked amidst the green and even a pack of wolves found their presence. The large canines were curious of the newcomers, but were wise enough to keep their distance. They had peaked Pup's curiosity as well. He would pause to observe his wild cousins, bounce around in a level of excitement, and even howled in reply to their calls. Cul, on the other hand, quietly remained at Kathryn's side and appeared unimpressed by the wolves.

Besides the active wildlife, there were bits of commentary in the group. The Sergeant made a comment on Pup's "untrained" behavior, in no means trying to be nice, but Cullen easily deflected the statement when Pup turned defensively in quick response. Gabbie managed a weak giggle and said she appreciated the mabari's playful behavior, to which Pup gave her a happy _Boff_. At one point, Hordin tried to strike up a conversation with Orin. He actually asked the Dalish mage on how he thought they should handle the maleficar, stating their last attempt to kill him failed. Orin suggested crushing his limbs under piles of rock and placing a nullifying sigil on him, letting the blood mage die slow and painfully like what he did to Drake. Hordin thought that was a little extreme, but didn't outright dispute it. Orin had nothing else to add.

Otherwise, the group stayed quiet and alert for the most part, keeping an eye on their surroundings, as if half-expecting the maleficar to jump out of the shadows at them. As the day grew older, the shadows grew darker and the surrounding life calmed drastically. Only the distant howls of wolves remained and, in time, they too faded away. Night was approaching and after countless hours of walking and little sleep, everyone was ready for a break. Throughout their march, however, Cullen had noticed something of interest - a distinct lack of human activity, or elf or whatever the blood mage was. They found no camps. No disturbances to show signs of rest. Or crumbs from a meal. Their group had traveled far longer than suggested in one go, fatigue kicking in, and not once did they find anything to suggest the maleficar was suffering the same effects.

The General stood at the edge of the steep hill they decided to camp on, which in truth was a big, ancient rock now covered in moss and grass, attempting to sort through the thick darkness that closed around them. He believed they were still heading south, but couldn't properly determine their direction. The sky had become cloudy, blocking out the moonlight, and the breeze was stronger and colder. He could taste moisture in the air, the threat of an incoming storm. He did not mind the thought of rain, but feared it would destroy the already difficult trail to follow. Looking back from his post, his honey-coated eyes falling on the weary Wardens of Ferelden, he couldn't help but wonder how much further they could go. If they could handle losing their chosen prey. Hordin was likely the only one familiar with hunting blood mages and dealing with the win or lose possibilities. In truth, very few of Templar Hunts ended successfully. Only the ones where the location of suspected mages were clearly known were regularly successful.

"You seem troubled."

Cullen turned the other way, to Kathryn walking over to join him at his lookout post. "I'm fine. I'm more worried about you and your men… No offense, but your team is very _green_ when it comes to mage hunting."

The Warden gave him a knowing nod and quiet sigh. "I can't dispute you there, unfortunately. The few mages some of us have encountered, rarely were they blood mages. And none as deadly as this one."

"I remember you saying such." Cullen recalled, back when they were still in South Reach. Still, he was surprised by how easily the maleficar out did the elite group. "I never did ask, but I feel I must - Why are you hunting this blood mage in the first place? Was it all because of the merchant?"

"No, not entirely." Kathryn answered. There came a pause, the woman turning her gaze outward. "When Leliana took the Sun Burst Throne and ended the Circles of Magi and the Templar Order, though I'm sure she meant well, it ultimately enhanced the already troubling thought of corrupt magic. Now mages can roam freely among other people, unmonitored and unchecked. The fear of corrupt mages, hiding in plain sight to insight ruin, crosses many minds… We - _I,_ have decided to fill the role the Templars left behind." The woman chuckled lightly at the thought, "Many found it odd, a mage willingly hunting other mages, but I cannot lie when the announcement increased our recruitment rate." Cullen chuckled at that as well, both impressed and surprised by her decision. "But to directly answer your question, we came across this blood mage by accident. We were on our way to Ostagar and heard rumors of strange undead activity along the way. We found Barsk's caravan torn apart and, (sigh) the mage chasing him down." Kathryn turned back to Cullen then, the look in her eyes of serious concern. "We _killed_ him, Cullen. Twice."

His eyes widened in equal concern, "Killed…?! Are you sure? How is he still living?"

"That's the thing, he's not. He's dead. Probably always has been and is somehow able to get back up. We don't know how, blood magic by guess... but I fear that someone _else_ is pulling the strings."

"Maker." Cullen breathed in quiet prayer, brushing a hand through his hair in uncertainty. He shifted his weight in unease, his mind trying to piece together information and sort out a solution… "Corypheus… He did something similar to this. He possessed the bodies of corrupted Wardens, _grew_ out of them, allowing him to return from certain death. His dragon, was the key to his false immortality, somehow."

"A dragon huh?" Hordin asked from the background, the Nevarran sitting next to the burning fire.

"Let's hope the mage doesn't have one of those. No signs yet." Gabbie commented with a worried laugh, sitting across from the Templar.

"Agreed." Kyle grumbled, trying and failing to get some rest on the hard ground.

Hordin huffed, "You guys are no fun." He then proceeded to prod the fire with a stick, sparks and crackles following.

"But it was a key." Asehan added, catching on to what the General was insinuating. "Perhaps, he has one too."

There came a quiet pause in the camp, each of them lost in a manner of thought. Orin began first with questioning the blood mage's gear, if it was his staff. Maybe a book. Maya added something in, her gesture and shrugged shoulders reflecting her unsure question or suggestion. Hordin wondered if he had a "cool" magical tattoo that came to life or something… His idea got a few long looks from the others.

"An amulet." Kathryn said softly.

Cullen looked back to her, probably the only one who heard her speak. She removed a simple pendant from her belt pouch, beaten of cold iron with a tiny, unpolished ruby in its center, and held it questionably in her open palm. It was so unremarkable, the ruby the only value it carried and still it didn't feel worth selling. She must have looted it off his "body".

"I thought it strange, when I felt I needed to hold on to it." Kathryn stated, her calm demeanor almost troubling. "Now I understand… I was keeping it safe for the blood mage." The woman turned and hastily tossed the accursed thing in the fire, the iron and chain clanking against the wood and stone. Almost immediately, as if in frightened reaction, Orin jumped to his feet and yelled in retort. The young elf sprung towards the fire. "Don't! Touch it!" Kathryn commanded.

Orin stopped in his tracks, but by the look on his face it was obvious he was struggling. He gritted his teeth and his body began to shake. He cursed something in Dalish, shaking his head from mental pain. A foot stepped forward and a hand reached out. Hordin was there in a split second, grabbing the mage by the arm and wrapping another around his torso, pinning him in a grapple.

"Fight it kid! Don't give in!"

Orin hissed in protest, spitting in the process, his face contorted in a mix of rage and fear. He tried to physically fight the towering Templar, kicking his legs in a fury and even headbutted Hordin. His struggle was unsuccessful, as everyone watched in stricken dismay, having shot to their feet only to stand still in place. And then there came a _Crack!_ The tiny ruby shattered and a _Whoosh!_ of magic was caught by the fire, changing the color to a dark purple momentarily and sending it in a spark of rage, additionally causing everyone around the fire to skitter back… Silence befell them as everything seemed to calm back down, despite the weight of tension still in the air.

"Is… Is it over?" Gabbie asked, her eyes eventually landing on the grappled duo, her bottom lip quivering. "Love? L-Little Orin?"

The young elf was panting in the Templar's arms, but had fallen slack, his skin pale and dotted with sweat. Hordin released his hold and the mage slid down to his hands and knees. Orin began whispering, apologizing to everyone, not once lifting his head from the ground even when Maya enveloped him in a hug. Cullen could imagine the internal struggle he just faced. That dark temptation or command that forced the mage to go for the amulet. The power behind the Blood Magic! Kathryn had recognized its magical pull and was able to get rid of it, but… as he looked back to her, his attention was turned downward to her hand that clutched his sleeve. Orin wasn't the only one who heard its corruptive call.


	4. Ch 4: Forbidden Magic

No one spoke another word of the incident and the night went on peacefully after that, thank the Maker. Everyone tried to get in at least a little bit of sleep before the morning march, but poor Orin found little rest in his dark dreams. Even Cullen had stirred at least once due to nightmares, but his dreams were nothing out of the ordinary. Kathryn meditated more than slept, the woman maintaining a protective barrier to ensure her men would sleep - apparently, this was common for her during such trials. Hordin was a bit on edge, finding it hard to fall asleep in the beginning, but when he finally did he fell like a rock. It was not beyond reason that the others may have suffered similar unrest during their hours of sleep.

With the arrival of morning, the Wardens made their leave long before the rise of the sun. The grass was still frosty, the air nippy, and a misty rain fell from the brooding sky above. Yet, despite the dreary atmosphere there was more energy in their steps. Perhaps due to their belief that now the maleficar _would_ die. Orin was eager to go after the blood mage, wanting to get it all done and over with and forget about everything that's happened. Hordin got rallied by the young elf's determination, which in turn rallied everyone else. Maya was literally skipping and Gabbie couldn't stop talking about lying in a bed of warm silks, with the smell of fresh bread wafting in the air, and a healthy hearth bellowing beside her. The dwarven woman even skidded up next to Cullen and asked him what was waiting for him after all this.

"Paperwork." he answered with a bitter sigh.

Gabbie shook her head after a light gasp. "Ooh, noo. That will not do!" With hands tight on her hips and lips folded in a pout, "There's no reward in that. You can't just work and work, you'll ruin yourself sweetie."

"Hey, I know!" Hordin strode up and put an arm atop Cullen's shoulder, "Why don't you come with us back to Amaranthine? That way, we can bring you on more adventures like this one. It'll keep everything fun and exciting." The tall Nevarran gave him a wide, almost dorky grin.

Cullen's smile was weak. He didn't know if he could endure watching Hordin and Kathryn together much longer, or reliving parts of his Templar life again, hunting mages. So, he found an excuse. "I wouldn't quite call this adventure fun. Besides, my family is already settled in South Reach."

"No problem." Hordin shrugged it off easily, completely unaware of the General's internal strife. "You can bring them too."

Gabbie clapped her hands together in a level of joy. "We got plenty of rooms in the estate! Or we can easily get them new homes and jobs! We've got enough to keep _anyone_ satisfied, sweetie." She giggled at the thought.

A laugh escaped Kathryn up ahead, "I don't think Cullen'd appreciate you two trying to influence his family."

"Wha?!" The Templar gave her a long look, "Are you calling us a bad influence?"

Cullen chuckled at the truth of that statement and the thought of how his family would respond. "I don't think you realize how head strong my family is."

"Depends if they're anything like you." Kathryn said with a cheerful smile, the woman almost twirling around in her tease.

Hordin let loose hearty laughter and Gabbie giggled into her hand. Cullen felt a little dumbfounded, staring blankly at the Warden-Commander. Her playful nature was unfamiliar, yet, refreshing. He only hoped he wasn't blushing due to this new and, frankly, excitable view of her. It was all rather strange, looking over everything, how quickly it appeared to turn around. One moment they were attempting to protect a frightened merchant, then falling prey to a devious blood mage and their pet demons, death stealing a quarter of their number and hurling the rest down a path of doubt, and then they were walking with confidence, faith, and hope. Closing in on their slippery foe. Did they always bounce back like so? To willing travel a dangerous road and somehow find enjoyment in of it? He wondered if they realized how rare of a trait that was.

Cullen thought about reminding them about the peril they were still in, about the deadly maleficar they were chasing, to keep their heads on straight and focus… but he let it all slide instead. And laughed alongside them. They knew anyways.

"And it ends." Asehan stated, crouched low on the ground far ahead of them and observing their surroundings.

"Finally! We got him pinned and we can clean up this mess." The Sergeant began, releasing a deep sigh of relief.

The stone grey qunari merely glanced back to the man, before looking back out into the distant wilderness - trying to sort through its many layers. "No. The trail ends."

"The- Wait! What?!" Kyle blurted.

Kathryn quickly walked up beside Asehan, the girth of the archer making the woman appear small even when he remained crouched. The Warden-Commander also took the time to examine their whereabouts, scanning the forest floor and even glanced up into the trees, looking for any signs of oddity. She turned and looked in the direction they came, her eyes and mind reconstructing the route they followed. Something was obviously off.

"Perhaps… this is where he died? When we burned the amulet?" Gabbie offered in theory, shrugging her shoulders heavily. A faint giggle did escape her. "It's a nice idea I think. And does make _some_ sense. Especially if his life, or unlife, or undeath, or whatever, was completely linked to his necklace."

"Undeath sounds cooler." Hordin commented, putting in his irrelevant two cents like usual.

"Then where is his corpse?" Kathryn asked, not so much to delude the possibility, but to question the mage's proximity. It gave everyone pause.

"I say we spread out and expand our search. He couldn't have gotten far, even if he Fade Stepped or something to try and throw us off." Orin suggested, readying his staff in hand with a minor twirl and tightening grip. "We can take to the air and-"

"No." Cullen interrupted. He didn't intend to be rude, but it was better to stop the elf now. "The maleficar has already proven what happens when we split up. We want to avoid another incident like that." The General ignored the " _Pff!_ " from the elf as he passed by. No doubt the statement reignited the heated memory of Drake's fall, and intentionally so.

"The hounds ca-" Both he and Kathryn said simultaneously, to which Cullen awkwardly cleared his throat and took a step back - he realized he was becoming too authoritative. Kathryn continued speaking, only after a slight pause, ".. We'll use the hounds to pick up the trail. I doubt many people travel this deep, anything they find should belong to the mage."

With a playful hum, Gabbie smiled at the two Commanders. "You two make such a _cute_ couple. I bet you could finish each other's sentences, given time."

"Thank you, Gabbie, for your input." Kathryn sighed with a slight hint of irritation. Hordin snickered. Cullen buried his fluster.

The tall Nevarran calmly approached the General and quietly whispered, "She's right though. Just pointing that out."

Cullen gave him a questionable glance, a bit perplexed and surprised by his statement. Hordin merely chuckled again and gave him a playful fist bump to the shoulder, before walking off to follow the others. Was he encouraging him? Trying to get him to go after Kathryn? Or was he testing him? Seeing if he would dare _try_? Cullen shook his head of the strange thoughts. Now was not the time for such nonsense.

The two war hounds had their noses to the ground and within seconds were on the move, even with the light rain. Now everyone had gone quiet, the seriousness and possible threat of the situation putting their jovial attitude on hold. Asehan, Orin, and Kyle had their choice weapons at the ready. Maya would occasionally fidget with her blades, her delicate fingers slipping the daggers in and out of their sheaths by roughly an inch. Cullen had his hand positioned to readily draw his long blade, as did Hordin, and Kathryn kept her hands free to easily summon her magic. Gabbie remained near the center of the group, her tense posture betraying her buried fear.

Pup and Cul worked coherently with one another, zig zagging back and forth, with one nose in the air and the other on the ground, giving each other quiet huffs when they demanded the other's attention. Pup seemed to take the lead on this one, gaining the initiative and leading the party forward. The two mabari tracked the curvy trail for several minutes, eventually coming upon a short, rugged cliff face. One of the large beasts propped up on their hind legs to try and get a higher sniff. The wall was roughly fifteen feet high and there were plenty of handholds to allow a person to climb. Two thin streams of water gently flowed down its rough surface, suggesting a pool or other body of water up above them.

Cul spun back around, gathered a bit of speed, and with a powerful leap sprinted up the wall. His claws dug into the hard, but crumbly mix of dirt and rock, and he pulled himself to the top. And then disappeared. Kathryn signaled for everyone to wait, her eyes not once leaving the sight where her companion vanished. As the moments dragged, Pup let out a quiet whine. And then Cul returned. His large, characteristic square head popped back over the edge and gave an airy _Huff_ : The coast was clear. Kathryn was the first to begin the climb, easily finding those handholds and pulling herself up without difficulty. She even hopped from one bulging ledge to another.

Hordin followed right behind her, but didn't dare any dexterous moves like his Commander. With long powerful arms, the warrior was at the top in a manner of moments. Asehan leapt up and grabbed those holds like an overgrown ape, swinging himself up to the next level. He beat Hordin to the top, despite starting after him. The qunari remained in a crouch, just at the edge of the face, notched bow back in hand, and spun around to watch their backs as the rest of them ascended. He didn't even flinch when Maya practically climbed over him, using his arm as leverage as she flung herself up and over.

The ground had leveled out into a plateau. Rich, vibrant grass reaching above their knees grew here, along with tall beads of lavender and cattails near the hidden streams of water. The trees were rather lean in this area, spread further apart than previously found, dotting the natural valley. It was dangerously open, with little to no cover to hide behind. It was also dangerously quiet. Everything felt still, even with the plants dancing wildly in the strengthening wind. The sun had risen at this point, but the sky had grown darker, the mix of the colors casting the forest in wicked green shadows. The storm had arrived.

The weather had convenient, if not appropriate, timing. The whistling wind pressed against them from two sides, attempting to strip them of their outer garments, and the rain had increased to a near downpour. Their boots slugged through mud and rising water, the once thin streams widening in threat to overtake the entire valley. Though nothing visibly told them they were in danger, the two hounds continuing their tracking, there was tension in the air that weighed heavily on the party. Something felt off, felt wrong. Was the maleficar waiting for them in ambush? Looking to exploit the open environment to his advantage? What kind of trap were they potentially wandering into? Was the blood mage even here?

When the group made it just short of halfway across the field, the two hounds stopped. They paced back and forth, circling and doubling back. They both sniffed fervently, trying to relocate that wanted scent. Cul slowed in his search, eventually giving up entirely. He took a seat in the tall grass, letting out a groan and huff of irritation. Kathryn calmly approached and crouched next to him, placing a hand upon his head. He tucked his ears back in a form of an apology. She shushed him softly, not believing he was in any fault. Pup returned to Cullen's side as well, ears tucked and head low in a similar fashion. They lost the trail.

Hordin was quick to move to Kathryn's side, kneeling and leaning close to loudly whisper due to the rain, "This isn't good Kat. We can't get caught out here."

"I worry we already have." the Warden-Commander replied, glancing his way before her eyes scanned over the surroundings. "I can't shake the feeling that we're being watched." The Templar grumbled, taking a moment to look around as well. He slowly unclipped and slid his greatsword from its sheath, the metal barely making a sound against the hardened leather.

With hand firmly latched to his sword hilt, the shine of metal peeking out, Cullen cautiously moved forward. "We need to move! This could be-!"

A potent sting and painful force dug deep into his shoulder, right between his armor plates, the whistle of the arrow catching up only after the fact. Cullen let loose an audible gag from the surprise attack, his shoulder flung back in reaction and he stumbled a couple steps in the applied direction. Before anyone could properly react, the surprise and gasps still upon their faces, a volley of arrows rained down upon them creating a blot of dark forms and angry hisses, mimicking the approach of a hungry locust swarm. They hadn't the time to dive for cover or enough shields at the ready.

Throwing up a single hand and calling upon her innate power, Kathryn released an invisible pulse of magic that thundered out across the open field, creating a ripple in the grass. The flying arrows shattered into countless pieces, flailing and spinning off course just in time to miss the party and fall harmlessly around them. In a split second, Asehan released a counter strike upon the enemy archers. One, two, three shots fired. His muscles tensed behind each draw of the powerful bow, the string snapping with each release, and the arrows cut through the air with such force they sung on high. The gags and cries of pain were the only sign of them hitting their marks, and they all did - remarkably. Cullen couldn't even see the enemy; they were so far away and hidden behind the cover of rock and storm. He assumed the qunari only fired three times because that's all he could aim at, and now the rest more than likely dove out of complete sight.

His instinct was to move to cover, to get out of the open valley, but as his eyes fell upon the Wardens, they all stood their ground and formed behind their Commander. It was probably safer behind her magical barrier anyways. Thus, he tore the arrow from his body, a thin line of blood trailing behind the broken head, and equipped his shield. It still stung and sent surges of heated pain each time he moved his arm, but it was better to endure the small injury than suffer a fatal blow without his defense. And then his feet moved in a haste, carrying him behind the now charging allied force as they rushed to get off the plateau and meet their assailants head on.

All weapons were drawn at this point and magic began to swirl around them. Bright fire enveloped Orin's staff, particularly the gnarled head, and he sent forth a ball of raging fire in retaliation. It fell just shy of the rocks, crashing and exploding in a fiery display upon the ground surface. Perhaps it wasn't meant to strike their enemies, but blind them to their approach? Or maybe he just missed. Whatever the case may be, it did nothing to deter the flanks on either side. The many forms surged from the shadows, the glow of red and sparks of dangerous energy strangling the powerfully augmented suits of warped plate armor and skin. Red Templars. Surprise and rage filled the General as he glared at the approaching enemies of the late Inquisition.

The pull of magic then hugged Cullen and the Wardens, a golden glow outlining their bodies, and suddenly everything visible slowed to a near crawl. The air felt light, the storm all but died, and his senses were heightened. He could taste the moisture like it was water running down his throat, the smell of grass and dirt strong as if his face was planted in it. The individual drops of rain were like sprinkles of refreshment, their _Plops!_ audible against his armor and skin. He could hear the sheen of their metal weapons, the very air leaving their chests, the suction of mud under their boots, the bellows of orders before they were transformed into words. All the colors were richer, brighter, more distinctive; casting the world in bold contrast.

He felt the draw of magic before it fully came to life, as if he could physically feel the two mages pulling and shaping the invisible force directly from the Fade. He felt the tingle warp around his two weapons long before he saw its swirl of colors. He could taste its raw blandness and he could hear its soft hum. And then felt the heat rise around Orin as he summoned more fire. He saw the warm glow stretch in a line between them and one of the flanking forces, and watched it erupt in a wall of dancing flames. He also heard the surprise in the hushed gasp from the elf, as the Red Templars barreled through the scorching fire without a second thought or care. The fires dared not touch the corrupted knights.

In an instant, the clash of metal and the cries of battle rang out. The Red Templars, with all their enhanced strength and abilities, swung and jabbed at their prey, not once landing a solid hit. The Wardens ducked and weaved with their own enhanced speed and agility, easily dodging the visibly obvious attacks to them. Even Cullen evaded most strikes, able to detect and determine the path of their weapons before they neared. He sidestepped an overhead chop and sliced open the Templar's side, before knocking his shield against another's elbow - canceling their soon to be swing, and cut down the length of their spine. He spun quickly to face the next foe, stepping up and bringing his blade upwards across their front, its tip scratching annoyingly across their metal armor and slicing effortlessly through their exposed neck and chin, up half their face and splitting their helmet in two.

The whistle of arrows gave away their approach long before their arrival. Cullen and Kyle's shields easily caught and deflected the projectiles. The Sergeant was busy protecting the elven mage in back, guarding him from the distant arrows that occasionally flew at them and the Red Templars that charged at the youth. The man was nowhere near as skilled as they, but with his magical enhancements he endured, blocked, and countered their every attack. He rotated a blade off course and sank his own into their thigh, before reversing his swing and cutting open their gut. He blocked the next incoming foe, shifted his weight and position, and redirected their strike to knock them off balance. He quickly followed through with a forward thrust, his longsword sinking deep into their chest cavity from under their armpit.

Orin struggled to damage the resilient and magically resistance Templars, his fire licking their tainted bodies with no obvious effect. He sent blast after blast at them, some hits managing to stagger or slow their approach, but still they came. Sigils burned themselves into the ground, searing a temporary mark, before exploding in a thunderous ball of fire that plumed and spun, completely engulfing the terrifying Red Templars. And to the elven youth's surprise, roughly half of them collapsed and the others continued their march. So, he summoned up a more ancient, almost forgotten magic. The pair of Red Templars charged at the mage, his protector occupied, their calls of victory all but ensured. And then roots shot up from beneath the ground, the wiry wood entangling one of the Templars in a constricting cage, drawing screams of pain and fear. The second Templar turned just in time to get smacked clear across the field by an awakened Sylvan. Two of the animated trees came to the mage's aid.

Maya raced across the open valley like a wild gymnast. She rolled, flipped, and spun away from her enemies, getting behind them and either opening their throats or digging her daggers deep into their sides, puncturing lungs and other vital organs. She dipped low to the ground, practically disappearing in the long grass, flowing gracefully beneath a sideways swipe and hamstrung the Templar. In a swift move, the Red Templar slowly falling to a crippled leg, she rose and stabbed her curved blade into the side of his neck, before flawlessly moving to her next victim. The throwing knife was released between her fingers, its tip slipping just over the collar of the Templar's armor before stabbing deep into his throat. He gagged and gurgled, but did not fall until the assassin ran forward and took hold of her thrown weapon, flipped up and over his shoulder, twisted and then dragged the knife with her.

The huffs from the dwarven Warden were just as audible as the cracks of bone. Gabbie bounced on her toes, trying to stay nimble as the overpowering Red Templars came at her. They would swing low or from up high, and she would sidestep or duck and roll, letting out quick squeaks of worry from time to time. Gabbie managed to get behind one of the Templars and shoved her full weight into their backside, using their own momentum against them as they staggered into one another. Once they were on the ground, she pounced like an angry tiger and, with mace in hand, split open their skulls or shattered their necks and spines. There was no finesse or skill to her attacks, only raw emotion as she bashed them continuously even after their death.

In her onslaught, she was left open to attack and many Red Templars tried to act upon that opportunity. Unfortunately for them, the qunari guarded her back. Large, powerful arrows cut through the air in roaring song, puncturing hearty plate armor and piercing flesh. One shot flew cleanly through one of their necks, the man lost in a gurgle of blood as he toppled holding his throat. Another arrow struck an eye socket, the force behind the attack enough to snap his head backwards and shattered his neck bone. And Asehan was just as much an opportunist as marksman. He prowled the battlefield like a silent ghost, firing carefully aimed arrows that crippled foes engaged in combat or finished them off completely.

Asehan released an arrow that pierced all the way through a Red Templar's leg, abruptly halting their charge and dragging them to the ground. Hordin was the target of their attack, and he spun to remove the now crippled threat. The powerful swing of his greatsword severed the Red Templar's head clean from his shoulders, a spurt of blood ejecting from the torso. He used the length of his weapon to his advantage and kept his feet moving as he took those wide swings that dragged air behind them. The Red Templars still had enough mind to know not to directly engage the two-hander warrior, waiting to strike at his back or exposed sides. Even still, Hordin was faster than expected and managed to avoid the fatal strikes and deliver his own. Many Red Templars lost their limbs or guts to the Nevarran.

Those that swarmed against the Warden-Commander, though they first thought her an easy target, were faring far worse. The nimble mage danced circles around the Templars, her magic powerful enough to negate their resistance and dampening abilities, moving so quick she was like a bolt of living lightning. The blade of her staff sliced cleanly through their necks, blood seeping out only after she was already gone, and she tripped and crippled legs with the blunt end. Spears of ice shot from the ground beneath them, impaling them while they were still in the midst of falling, and encased others in frozen tombs. Electricity and sheer arcane force collapsed their lungs, either sending them flying through the air or crushing them against the ground, and those frozen in place were shattered into red-tinted mist.

The Red Templars toppled left and right, their bodies torn open and filling the pools with blood, their cries lost in the conflict. Cullen ducked under one last, panicked swing, slicing open both of their thighs in his lowered position before rising with an uppercut from his shield. The knight couldn't muster a proper cry or gag with his broken jaw, losing grip of his weapons as he was knocked prone. Cullen swiftly followed through, turning and plunging his longsword into the Red Templar's chest before he even heard the thud of his drop, the magic enveloping his weapon bypassing the corrupted steel plate. The General watched the fallen Templar breathe his last breath, the fear in his eyes dwindling with the light of life, and then lie motionless upon the blood-soaked battlefield.

He could smell it - the death, the now crimson streams, the ilk of their fallen foes. With heavy breaths, he scanned the once beautiful field now littered with bodies both whole and scattered, the taint of their red lyrium feasting on their corpses. The Wardens stood victorious, taking time to evaluate the scene as he, their chests heaving with adrenaline, dotted with sweat and blood splatter. Hordin and Gabbie looked the worse, both soaked head to toe from their onslaughts, while Asehan appeared spotless. The two towering, frighteningly humanoid Sylvan trees flanked the breathless mage in back, Orin still focusing his magic into them. And looking to the rocky outcrop, now no more than a handful of meters away, the corrupted archers shared very much the same fate as their brethren thanks to the hounds.

The golden magic faded and the world returned to normal speed, making it feel like the storm suddenly crashed on top of them. The downpour was welcoming. Its cold touch cooled their heated bodies and its moisture began to wash away the gore. Kathryn slowly began to make her rounds, checking on her men and the General, examining any injuries they may have gotten. Hordin was staring down at the bodies of the Red Templars, his face twisted in angered confusion. He didn't understand why they were fighting, why he had to kill his brothers. He didn't know that they were lost long before their arrival. Gabbie began to cry, tears pouring down her face like the rain. Maya silently moved and took her in a comforting hug, the dwarf burying her face in her shoulder, and Asehan came up behind them and added a gentle hand.

"What... is this?" Orin asked, prodding one of the crimson crystals with his staff, a snarl upon his face.

"Don't!" Cullen warned with a snap, to which the elf flinched and eyed him suspiciously. With a frustrated sigh, "It's red lyrium. A more powerful and addictive form, but also tainted by dark magic. It corrupts and consumed everything it touches."

"You've seen it before?" Kathryn asked as she approached the rigid man.

"Yes." Cullen's eyes turned down to the corpse that lie before him, memories of the Breach, the ruined Conclave, and the red glowing army that assaulted Haven coming to mind. He could still remember the screams of the dead and the howls of war, the smell of burning corpses, the unnerving depression and hopelessness that gripped the people. Cullen tried to shake away the memories, returning his attention back to the quiet Wardens. ".. We should leave this place. We-"

The glow and hunger of forbidden magic caught him. It caught everyone. In sudden flux, the blood around their feet grabbed them in a suction of powerful magic, a dark gravity trying to drag them to the ground. Tendrils shot out from the dark pool and caught their arms and weapons in a crimson net, and the lyrium crystals pulsed, tainted energy returning to the jagged, corrupted shards. There was a collective gasp, followed by a few growls and yells of either resistance or fear, as Cullen and the Wardens were forcibly brought to their knees.

The trap had been sprung! The party lured into an ambush of Red Templars, who more than likely had no idea they were being played as well, where no matter the victor the slaughter provided the maleficar with the fuel and power he needed. Cullen growled through clenched teeth, struggling to fight the downward pull on his body. He felt as if his limbs would be torn from their sockets, his bones crushed as his body fought to maintain structure, or his insides ripped out of him. Kathryn was down in front of him, struggling just as much as he was. He could see the strain on her face, the sweat that dotted her forehead from exhaustion, and the fierce determination in her eyes. They locked gazes for painfully dragged seconds, each silently telling the other not to give up. To resist!

He hadn't the strength to lift his head to eye the others or to glare at the maleficar that so proudly and effortlessly led them into this trap. He could hear their struggles, the groans, the growls, the screams. Both angry and scared. He felt the dangerous sway of losing consciousness, the edge of his vision blurring from his growing fatigue. He didn't know how much longer he could keep this up. How much longer he could resist the blood magic attempting to swallow him whole! And then Kathryn's hand shot at him, her glowing palm slamming into his chest and delivering a knocking pulse of magic into his core.

Opaque darkness claimed him then, that familiar emptiness that surrounded his aloof existence. He felt as if he was drifting, flying through an unnatural sky, a weightlessness keeping him suspended in still animation. There was no sense of time or direction, but he knew he was being drawn somewhere. His trusty gut told him so.

The black nothingness soon gave way to form - thick and airy with soft, rounded mounds. It still felt empty, though moisture and the hint of color soon played before his awareness. Surges of pure electric energy scorched through the sky, their jagged forms a wicked blood red, revealing the storm that he drifted in. He could not speak or move in any reaction before he felt the pull of gravity, that force dragging him downwards exponentially. He watched the clouds blur and mold to his non-existing body, fading away to reveal the fortress down below, that strangely familiar stone structure drawing closer with each second before his inevitable crash.

Cullen shot up in his bed, panting labored breaths and sweating after his waking nightmare. He spun quickly in his seat, hastily taking in his surroundings, expecting the enemy to be standing over his limp body. But he was alone. Alone in his room, so sparse and kept. A short, square table rested next to his large bed, a single bookcase stocked full with tombs, scrolls, and loose paper stood across the way, two rustic red rugs covered portions of the wooden floor, and the glow of daylight shone dimly through the open gap in the ceiling above him.

"I'm…" Cullen staggered to find his words. He knew exactly where he was, his eyes wide in shock.

The General shot to his feet, to the ladder that led down into his office - also sparse with only the heft of his sturdy desk to give any "fill" to the room, and then he slammed the southern door open. The bustle of Skyhold came to life the instant the door flew open, a slew of conversations muffled over varied distances. Soldiers patrolled the stone battlements and passively gave him a salute as he slowly strode out. He could see the wide collection of their allies wandering the grounds, ranging from Orlesian nobles, to Chantry clerics, to studious magi, and qunari mercenaries. He spotted Dennet down tending to the stables, able to hear the horses neighing further in, and Cassandra reading one of her books over near the dummies.

Laughter and play pulled him away from his silent stun. Cullen's honey-coated eyes turned down near the base of the steps, where the tavern greeted the wall, and saw Blackwall there with Cole at his back, "protecting" the spirit from a child wearing his symbolic Lion Helm, the little girl trying so hard to sound ferocious with her roar.

"Make have Mercy!" Blackwall called out, his fear an obvious ploy in their playful act. "A fierce lioness has invaded the keep! We must rally the troops!"

"She's not a lion. That's Ser Cullen's daughter, Blackw-" Cole tried to explain, completely missing the point.

 _" **A** **f** **ierce lioness**_." Blackwall was quick to correct.

Cullen felt himself stiffen. He stared down at the trio, not knowing what to expect. His daughter?! He didn't have a daughter. He didn't even have a wife! What was going on? Why was he back in Skyhold?! The General quickly reevaluated his surroundings. The fort was as he remembered, with the troops and all, but the brooding sky above, its clouds dark and discolored as if filled with blood and those sharp crimson bolts, painted the area in an off hue of red color. It felt wrong, it all felt wrong, like some maleficent force held everything in its palm. This was not Skyhold. This was not Thedas. Was he… in the Fade? Somehow fully awake? A headache throbbed in his skull, forcing the man to bring a hand to his temple and let out a groan of discomfort. This wasn't right.

"Commander." a soldier saluted as they approached. Cullen cautiously turned his gaze to them, silently judging the man as if he were a potential enemy. Appearing oblivious to his commander's suspicion, "The Inquisitor wishes to see you, ser."

Cullen's eyes narrowed. The Inquisitor, huh? More like a demon in disguise. He stepped away from the wall to head in the direction of the main keep, thinking to deal with the problem head on. His attention was stolen away, however, when he heard that little girl, his daughter, call out "Mommy!". He couldn't help but skitter to a stop and look down, his own curiosity betraying him. He watched that little girl run to greet a woman entering through the main gate, struggling to keep his helmet on as it bobbed heavily atop her shoulders. The woman in question, his supposed wife and mother of his child, wore the armor of a Grey Warden and a familiar staff was strapped to her back. Cullen's heart stuttered. Was that, supposed to be Kathryn?

"Commander?" the soldier spoke again, the question in his voice suggesting concern.

Cullen was able to tear himself away from the family greeting and the burn in his heart. With purposefully steps, he made his way across the bridge and into the main keep, no one daring to get in his way. He climbed down the spiraling steps from the library, Dorian sitting in his usual comfy chair, and walked across the main entry hall where the Dragon Throne overlooked the length of the hall. He could see Varric working on his next book further down and Vivienne posing on the balcony above. He passed Josephine's flourished office, the lovely ambassador sitting with a posh noble next to the hearth and discussing nonsense. And then he pushed open the heavy doors to the War Room.

Cullen easily recognized the grand room, with its tall windows topped with stained glass overlooking the sacred garden, the bold red drapes spanning all the way from the vaulted ceiling high above, and the one-a-kind war table cut from an ancient tree trunk and smoothed into its current purpose, the roots of the same tree hanging above as a unique chandelier. The large table itself was nearly covered by a map exploring the countries of Ferelden and Orlais, with the southern portions of the Free Marches and Anderfels also recorded, and small markers dotted the detailed map with a stack of books and reports set off to the side. And looming over that impressive table was Inquisitor Kaaras Adaar.

The ashen qunari stood a good two feet above Cullen at full height, his broad shoulders and muscular build contrasting with his oddly soft face. He had similar horns to the Arishok back in Kirkwall, sweeping back from his shaved head, and though a thin black goatee hardened his lower features, his blue eyes were deeper than any ocean known. Josephine liked to call him "her gentle giant".

" _Ah!_ There you are!" Adaar piped up excitedly, a smile spreading and a gleam growing in his eyes. "Excellent! I was hoping to work out the details involving-"

Cullen scoffed, shifting his weight in disbelief. "What details? The Inquisition is done. And I'll not stay in this fantasy world of yours, I demand you release me!"

The Inquisitor stared at him in startle for some time, analyzing him. His smile did return, though not nearly as cheerful, "Impressive. You are fully aware of where you are, aren't you? And here I thought only mages could perceive with such clarity." Cullen did not answer, the large qunari making his way around the table to stand with no barricade between them. "You are in the Fade, trapped by the demon ruling this realm. And I am not the Inquisitor, as you've already discerned no doubt."

"So why act the part? Why bother with all this pretend?!" Cullen glared at the false qunari, pointing outward towards the center of Skyhold in his speech.

"I took this form because it is one you recognize, a friendly face. I am here to help you, Cullen, that is why I called you to this room - it is sanctioned from the demon." He paused in his plea, perhaps to see the reaction. When it did not change, he continued. "I understand your caution, and it is warranted, but you will need my help if you wish to escape this place."

"Then point me at the demon so that I may slay it."

"I'm afraid it's not as simple as that."

"Then out with it!" Cullen ordered, not wanting to spend anymore unnecessary time with this mockery of the Inquisitor. The very act of speaking with a Fade creature sickened him. "Stop stalling and get straight to the point!"

The towering figure stared down the General, the softness in its eyes replaced with a more insidious glare. It didn't like being told what to do. With a muffled chuckle, a grin formed and the familiar qunari returned. "Shall I be blunt then? You're not strong enough to take on this demon, nonetheless the more powerful one. If you wish to return to your world, you must destroy both and you'll need **my** help, for I can provide you with the strength you require... All you need to do is accept it." The Inquisitor extended out its hand in offering.

Cullen not once looked down to its hand, keeping his hard gaze firmly on their face. The long pause seemed to upset the would-be leader of the Inquisition, a grimace folding its face downward. And when it noticed Cullen had a solid grip on the hilt of his sword, did it glower and lower its offer. With swiftness, that disapproval turned upside down and the common softness of the qunari revived.

"This is a difficult decision for you, I see." With a nod and gesture towards the door, "Feel free to think it over, maybe enjoy the dream created for you. When you are ready to leave, come see me." The Inquisitor walked back around the other side of the table, leaning to retake his earlier position. "Dismissed."

Cullen growled at the creature, but kept himself from outright attacking it. With a grunt, he spun and quickly exited, slamming the doors open in a fit. If he walked with purpose before, now he walked with heated intention. He ignored Josephine's concerned comment as he passed by, the woman just as false as the rest of them. He stormed out into the hall, the gossiping nobles quickly moving out his way so not to get run over and making their own commentary afterwards. And when he reached those open doors, the view of the moist, grassy grounds speckled with people meeting his eyes, did he finally stop. Hesitated was a better word.

Kathryn was out there, with their daughter, mock fighting with wooden swords. He could hear them laughing. Their playful cheer like music to his ears and causing his heart to ache even more, to ache for the real thing. He wanted to be out there, to be a part of that joy, to teach his daughter, to embrace his wife, to share in their love and relish in the thought that he could have it. That this dream… was more than a dream.

"Turn away."

Cullen turned quickly to the firm, feminine voice edged with an Orlesian accent, his hand instinctively on the hilt of his blade. He spun to find Leliana standing there, or some creature pretending to be her, arms tucked behind the small of her back in her usual fashion. She appeared just as mysterious and elusive as ever with the dark backdrop, wearing her chainmail and hood instead of the robes of the Divine.

"The more you indulge in this realm, the harder it will be for you to leave." she said, those aqua eyes glancing outside briefly before flicking back to him. "Please follow me, I will explain everything."

The Nightingale didn't wait for a response, stepping deeper into the shadows of the hall and moving towards the side wall. Cullen didn't follow immediately, eyeing the individual with just as much suspicion as he did the "Inquisitor". She glanced back to him, her visage unchanged, and placed a hand on the wall. The stone disappeared to reveal a hidden doorway, its edges lacking any sort of border, and she walked through to enter impeccable darkness. The General didn't know if he should follow or not. This could be another trap. A lure made by a demon to keep him forever trapped here. And yet, something told him differently. His gut told him to follow.

Cullen stepped through that magically created doorway, finding a narrow set of steps leading down, and as he followed those first few the wall closed behind him silently. He cautiously placed a hand on his sword, ready to draw it at the slightest sign of trouble, descending further down in the bowels of this Skyhold. It opened into a small chamber lit by candlelight, the old study covered with dust and cobwebs, the bookcases stuffed full of ancient tombs and manuscripts. Leliana was continuing ahead of him, leading him out of the study to the under chamber which Cullen somewhat recognized. Yes, he did recall venturing down here once, when they first explored the seemingly ageless ruin.

With a subtle sway of her hand, the fireplace near the center of the room came to life, burning an eerie blue. And then she turned around to face him. "We should be safe here. There are too many eyes and ears up above."

Now Cullen felt more uneasy, but stepped closer. With a hiss of disdain, "What do you want, demon?"

Leliana narrowed her eyes in threat, "I am no demon, mortal, and it would be wise to not insult me again. I am a spirit of Valor and I was sent here to aid you in your quest."

" _Sent?_ By who?" Cullen asked with no less hostility.

"I was sent by the Warden-Commander, I am her tie to this world." The "Lady" Valor went on to explain further when Cullen gave her a questionable look. "While the Commander is an impressive and experienced mage, not all of her magic can be conjured by herself. I supply a portion of her arcane might, in particular, her more powerful healing properties. You mortals call her a Spirit Healer, and I am her conduit."

Cullen stared at the spirit with disgust and disbelief, his body tensing at the thought of there being any truth in its words. "She made a _deal_ with you?"

"And that **deal** has kept her alive! As well as saved the lives of many others. You _walk_ because of it." The spirit snipped back. "You think I am here to corrupt her, to take her body for my own?" She shook her head, calming back down. "I am a spirit of the Fade, I've no interest in walking amongst your world, I am content where I am. I was merely impressed by her own courage and valor that I agreed to aid her during times of peril."

"So I am to take your word on this? That you've never tried to possess her?!"

"You don't have to take anything from me, I can leave if it pleases you. But you should place more faith in your Commander. Many have tried to take my place and enter her world, none have succeeded." The spirit then waved a dismissive hand with a disgruntled sigh. "Enough of this! I've not come here to suffer through your incompetence. You must leave this realm and save the others from their own imprisonments, that is your quest. To do so you must kill the demon holding you here and embark further into the Fade."

"Further into the Fade?! Why not send me back home?!" Cullen protested, not one bit interesting in exploring this haunting place.

"If I had the power, mortal, but I do not. You will need to free the Warden-Commander from her prison if you wish to return to your world. She is hidden further in."

"H- .. How am I to find her? I'm no mage."

"Evidently." The spirit commented. "Did you ever wonder _why_ you are so aware of your surroundings? It is because the Warden-Commander imparted a piece of herself into you, her magical attunement. You are able to move and interact with the Fade as a mage would."

Cullen teetered back on his heels, surprise and uncertainty washing over him. He could hardly believe what this so-called spirit was saying. It was impossible! You can't just give someone magical capabilities! They either have it or they don't! With a frustrated sigh and skeptical look, "Fine! Say I can, where do I need to go? How am I supposed to find Kathryn and the others?"

"The Fade does not function like your world. Where you see yourself with your equipment, you in fact carry nothing. What you consider up, could be down. I will act as your guide and lead you to each of their imprisonments, but it will be up to you on freeing them."

Cullen foiled his brow, "Does that include dealing with the demons?"

The Lady Valor did not respond immediately, easily reading his distrust. Instead she turned and began to lead him back upstairs, taking the "normal" route. "You have already met your demon, you need only deal with him. I will not interfere for this battle is your own. If you require my assistance later, you need only ask."

Cullen climbed the steps shortly after her, only to watch her disappear in a sudden globe of light in which she walked through. In a huff, he opened the door ahead of him and stepped back into the entry hall. He didn't dare pause, knowing he would hear _their_ voices outside and risk being torn from escape. With increasing speed, he raced back to the War Room, where the demon Inquisitor was waiting for him. No words were spoken as the demon already knew the answer. Cullen drew his blade and shield, the fire alight in his eyes, and he half leapt, half stepped atop the table as he charged the large foe on the other side.

The Inquisitor glared and roared in fury at the challenging act, bringing a hand forward and drawing upon some dark magical energy to knock the General from the air. Cullen felt the cold, gut twisting force hit him, but he used his shield to deflect most of it and mentally resisted its sickening and slowing effect. His sword severed the extended forearm of the qunari looking demon, fitting to the real Inquisitor, and silenced its scream of agony as he pummeled right into him with his shield. Adaar fell back onto the floor, crashing loudly, with Cullen pinning it down with shield to its throat and body atop its torso. He saw those blue orbs turn solid black and fangs grow in its dripping mouth. Its horns began to multiply and its skin turn a violet hue.

No, this ends here! Cullen slammed his shield into its throat, choking it and drawing inky blood where the metal cut the flesh, and then plunged his sword into its heaving chest from a sideways angle, piercing a lung and then its heart, if it had any to begin with. The demonic qunari hissed and gagged, its eyes bulging outward, struggling to get at least one claw on him, its body quivering before falling still. Cullen watched the life drain from the twisted demon, its form stuck in mid transformation between its true form and the Inquisitor's identity. He took in a few deep breaths, not so much from exertion, but from the fact that it was over so quick. He expected more.

"The magic-" Valor began, Cullen spinning on his heels defensively, "- given to you increased your already strong will, enabling you to resist the demon's magic more effectively."

The spirit walked from the open doorway, Leliana's appearance changing to a ghostly visage of a person before reshaping itself into a completely different form. A warrior clad in plate armor, decorative etches carved into it but with no form of heraldry, with a winged helm, flowing cape, and a sword on either hip, strode into the room without fear. This was the spirit's true appearance. Cullen eyed him no differently than before, keeping his ready stance. Valor gave him a passing glance, continuing to the back of the room and placed a hand to the center window. The expanse of the glass lit up into a magical portal, the others going completely dark as the reality of the dream disappeared, the wooden doors behind them slamming shut. No longer could he see the garden or the keep outside, no longer did he hear the birds or the storm or the people, no longer did he feel that pull or snag for him to stay.

Valor turned to face the General. "The door has been opened for you mortal. The choice is yours if you wish to follow this path, or if you wish to stay and live this illusionary life." He gestured towards each exit appropriately, the window and then the door leading back out into Skyhold proper.

Cullen didn't spare a second thought. He walked over to the spirit, giving him a questionable snick eye for better lack of terms, and then stepped through the portal. The blinding light faded quickly as Cullen stepped out into heavenly daylight, the roars of the crowd immediately catching his attention as he soon realized he stood in the middle of an arena. The grand, circular monument stood four or five stories, filled with howling people. Blood red drapes hung at angles overhead bathing everyone in crimson shadow, flags soared on high, and statues of black marble lined the high walls, representing the glory of gladiators and heroes past. The dirt ground was flat and clean, minus the rose pedals that drifted through the air and collected in romantic clumps.

"And here **he** is! Ladies and Gentlemen!" the crier shouted above all others, "From the Grandeur of our almighty Capital! _Your Champion!_ _**Serah Hordin Aurelian of Nevarra!**_ "

The crowd went up in an uproar, shooting to their feet in cheer, throwing ribbons and flowers into the air. The gaggle from all the women was the loudest, Cullen noticed. And he then watched the ground, in the center of the arena, open to allow the platform that carried up the crouched, almost noble looking Nevarran to rise. A heavy cloak of fur fell from the warrior's shoulders as he stood, revealing a polished silverite suit of classic gladiator armor adorned with draconic themes and black cloth accents. Hordin's left arm was covered in stylized plate, including the top half of a dragon maw on his shoulder, while his right remained bare, minus the black cloak that wrapped heavily on that side. A cocky grin spread wide on the Nevarran's face as he looked upon his opponent, confident and proud, and he lifted the hefty greatsword implanted in the ground with a single hand, striding forward.

Cullen wasn't surprised by Hordin's glorified entrance, if a bit extreme, or the inspiration of this dream in fact. The man was a bit of an adrenaline junkie, recklessly running head long into a welcome challenge, and though he was talented, Cullen did not doubt there were many times the Templar barely survived. In which turn probably only fueled his desire to seek more battle. And most Nevarrans were proud of their heritage, fighting for past glory and memory, and the Grand Tourney was a world-known event which brought the entirety of Thedas together.

The General eyed the approaching man with respect, evaluation, and caution, as he did bare his greatsword with intent of use, but did not lift his own weapons in defense. He had to somehow get through to the towering warrior, to convince him this life was a lie and that their fight was meaningless - if only it was to please the demon in charge. Hordin slowed in his approach as he drew near, his eyes narrowing in a level of discontent towards the calm General, his grin fading briefly. He was being strangely quiet. No snort or banter of arrogance. No cocky dialogue or taunt. And suddenly he charged. Cullen saw it coming, his odd silence and tensing muscles giving him away. The Nevarran closed in seconds, his powerful weapon lifted high in the air and then brought down to sever him in two. Cullen easily sidestepped the swing, hearing the _whoosh_ and feeling the wind fly across his face from the weapon's pull.

Hordin did not slow in his assault, using the momentum to quickly reposition and spin to face his "challenger", the great weapon acting as a temporary shield before swinging out again in a sideways swipe, followed by another and another. Cullen jumped back from the wide attack, exiting Hordin's reach momentarily, then dodged and ducked under the third swing. Still he did not rise his weapons against the Nevarran, staying quick on his feet and actively avoiding getting hit. It made him question what would happen should he get hit. Would he feel pain as if it were real? Could he die in the Fade? If so, what would become of him then? … Cullen didn't feel like testing it out anyways.

Hordin let out a yell of frustration, putting more strength and energy into his attacks. The General kept on his toes, moving with swiftness and agility, continuing to dodge and weave around the Nevarran's strikes. He was becoming angry, he noted, his frustration driving him to higher limits and carelessness. That's what Cullen was planning on. However, he also noticed each death-ensured swing was getting closer to hitting its mark. There were a few times he had to lift his shield and deflect the greatsword off track, and with each one he felt the might put behind them. Hordin whipped his large weapon around in an almost effortless display, the tip of his blade suddenly tearing through the ground as he brought it in an upwards swing. The drag only slowed the attack minorly and at the last second he twisted the blade to catch and fling chunks of the dirt floor into Cullen's face.

The General easily blocked the debris, his shield angled to bounce the clumps harmlessly off to the side, but the dust he could not afford to completely block without going blind to Hordin's next incoming attack. He squinted through the fine particles, vaguely capturing the Champion's overhead chop. The greatsword came down with enough power it severed cleanly into the ground, kicking up more dirt, but did not rise again. When the dust cleared, it revealed to the gawking and gasping crowd that Cullen had deflecting the attack just enough with his shield, pushing it aside, and his sword was readily positioned above it with the tip threatening Hordin's exposed neck. A small twinkle of blood slowly escaped the sharp wound.

Labored breaths escaped both warriors, though Hordin was heaving far harder, and the surprise in his eyes was just as loud. He was the undefeated champion, this was his dream, how could he lose? As least that's what Cullen believed was running through his mind.

"Enough." Cullen finally said, his narrowing eyes a glare of discontent. "I will fight you no longer. It's time for you to break free of this curse." Hordin glared back equally, though with a hint of uncertainty or suspicion as he silently listened. "Your mind is trapped in the Fade. This place, this tournament, this _fight_ , it's all a lie." Cullen kept his blade close to his throat only because he saw Hordin's grip tighten, as if to disprove him and keep fighting. With a light growl, "You must resist it, resist its unnatural pull! Can you not feel it?! Were you not a Templar?!"

Hordin laughed at him then. "Templar? **Me?** You're a real character, Ferelden. Why on earth would I want to join that lame party?"

Cullen growled at the non-intentional insult. Though he left the Order for good reasons, he joined it for good ones too. "Then what of the Wardens? Do you not remember joining their cause? Fighting alongside them?!"

"Are you trying to distract me with your nonsense? Why not get this done and over with? What's staying your blade?" There was a subtle snicker in there, a challenge to the man that held the sword to his throat. "Are you scared?"

"Are you?" Cullen countered, unimpressed by his attempt to debuff him. A grin crossed the Nevarran's face, but something else flickered in his eyes. Had the two not been glaring at one another, Cullen might have missed it. It was fear, but not fear of death. "What is it that you fear? What are you hiding?"

"Hiding? I've got nothing to hide. I've no shame in this defeat, it was glorious and well earned." Hordin shifted ever so slightly, again challenging the blade at his throat.

"Then you've no shame in explaining how you got here? How you became the Champion of this place?"

With an amused chuckle, "Do you wish to be regaled in my awesomeness? To figure out how to become greater than me?" Cullen did not answer, staring him down with the same level of serious drive. Hordin paused, his smirk fading. Perhaps he caught on to the General's disconcert on this world, on the fight, or perhaps he was trying to find the answer. His face grimaced and his brow foiled, "I became Champion through… through…" Hordin's eyes turned downward as he struggled to remember the non-existing lie.

Cullen removed his blade from his throat then and stepped away, giving him enough space to breath and focus. "You're not the Champion." he explained. "You were a Templar, and now a Warden. We fought side by side with the Hero of Ferelden, chasing a blood mage. Do you remember?"

"A blood mage? Why would...?" Hordin questioned with disdain, though his voice fell short.

The snap of lightning and clap of thunder shook the grounds, the entire area going dark in the blink of an eye and suddenly they stood in a completely different realm. Cullen went on the defensive, eyeing his new surroundings with extreme caution and uncertainty. They stood in the hollows of a cave, dark and damp with the drops of water echoing periodically against the uneven stone, and as he turned to the dancing light source, Cullen's eyes widened in shock and horror. The glow of at least a hundred candles revealed a dark-haired woman laid upon a stone slab, runes of blood beneath and upon her desecrated body, her prominent round stomach ripped open.

With mournful hisses and growls between clenched teeth, Hordin gripped his sword even more as he fell to his knees. "Marreese… My wife, and…" The cries of an unborn child wailed in the background. Cullen shuttered in his stricken form, blanching. He blood ran cold. "M-My son... Taken from me, by a… a mage!" Hordin growled with such ferocity and scorn he rivaled a raging dragon. His glare hardening in his eyes enough it looked like he could cut diamonds with a mere look. There was so much hate, so much sorrow in those brown orbs that no tears could even begin. Cullen remained silent as he observed the poor man once again submerged in suffering. With a deep breath, Hordin rose to his feet and though he lost most of his bite, his eyes did not lessen. "That's why I left the Order. Seeking vengeance for the wrongs committed against my family… And when I finally found her, after months of unrelenting pursuit, crossing the Waking Sea into unfamiliar lands, was that vengeance stripped from me."

The scene changed once more, to something no more appealing, but recognizable - the Storm Coast. Everything was drenched in rain and bloodshed, the sky above dark and hungry, with hideous monsters and fires consuming the village that once belonged here. Darkspawn hissed in their joyous slaughter, tainting the land black and twisted, like themselves. Hordin and Cullen stood atop a small peak of rock that overlooked the destruction, watching the memory unfold before their eyes.

"The Blight." Cullen surmised, reflections of the devastating event returning to him as well.

"I was so angry, so lost when I found the mage had died to their hands and not my own." Hordin recalled, taking a moment to look down to his empty palms, "How was I supposed to avenge them now? Now that their killer was forever beyond my reach?" The Nevarran placed a hand to his chest, the gladiator armor he once wore replaced with the well-used, scratched armor of the Wardens. "I joined the Grey Wardens in the weak attempt, the miserable hope, that I might kill the darkspawn that took away my vengeance. And in doing so, finally be released of my burden... I was willing to delve into the Deep Roads and cleanse it of as many darkspawn as I could, no matter the consequences."

"... You seek to rejoin them." Cullen commented softly, sympathetic to the Templar who lost his family to blood magic.

"Yes… Yes I do, brother." Hordin answered with sincerity, a weak smile crossing his face shortly afterwards. The thought of dying, was not a mournful one.

Silence fell between them and it was welcomed. For quite some time, they simply watched the fires burn in the distance, the cries and dark forms vanishing from their view. And from the fiery dance, Cullen caught sight of a bluish-white light off to the side. It was the Spirit, waiting for them. The General let out a silent sigh and turned to the distant Templar, whose eyes stared blankly into the flames. With a simple gesture of placing a hand on the man's shoulder, Cullen stole his attention and then started down the hillside. Hordin followed shortly afterwards, strapping his greatsword back in place. They easily climbed down the rocks and approached the crispy skeleton of a house where the spirit waited.

Hordin slowed momentarily and glared, his hand returning to grip his sword if need be, unsure of this Fade creature. Cullen understood his caution, especially after just witnessing the dark part of his past, and agreed full-heartedly. Valor said nothing to the grimacing two, identifying their concerns and suspicions, and instead turned to the doorway of the burnt home. With another touch, a portal opened between the charred wood and the spirit stepped through, disappearing in that swirling light. Cullen moved to follow, but Hordin caught his shoulder.

"What are you doing?! We can't trust that _thing!_ "

"I don't, but we don't have many options either." Cullen answered, "It's what brought me here to find you, and claims to be leading us to the others."

"The others? Shit, well, I guess that makes sense." Hordin cursed lightly, shifting with unease. "Then we should wait for Kat to find us. She knows more about this place than any of us, and it's a hell of a lot better than trusting the word of that, demon."

Cullen nodded in a measure of agreement, but felt they couldn't afford to wait and see. "In any other case I would agree with you. I've no desire to explore this place, to follow the spirit, but time is against us. The longer we dwell here, the harder it will be to leave. Kathryn is the only one who can get us back and she is trapped. Somewhere."

"So we're to trust this, spirit you say? Trust it's leading us to her and not some damn trap?" The man sneered, mumbling quietly at the end, "I'm getting sick and tired of being led into traps."

"We've no other option. I do not trust it, but something tells me it isn't lying. We must follow, and hope it's for the best." Cullen sighed weakly.

"And expect the worse." Hordin scoffed and shook his head in a manner of disbelief. "Alright, fine. Let's see what horrific nightmare awaits us."

The two former Templars eventually stepped through the portal. The light once again consumed them in temporary blindness, before giving away to another scene. The blood red moon glared down upon them from the night sky, the air bitter and heavy with the scent of pine, and a thick fog crawled over the rugged landscape. They stood in a temperate woodland up in a rocky terrain, pines and ferns dominated much of the place, along with protruding stone and rough cliff faces. A single trail laid before them, worn into the dirt and timid grass.

"I recognize this place, I think." Hordin began, spinning slowly as he took in their new surroundings. ".. I'll let you know if it comes to me."

They were positioned atop a small hill, providing them with quite the view of the land. It was scenic and beautiful, the mix of sculpted stone and deep green appealing to the eye. The mountains were proud and regal, but nowhere near the height and strength of the Frostbacks. No snow graced their steep slopes, instead blanketed by evergreens, and off in the far distance, they could just barely make out the rolling hills of Ferelden's rich soil, the edge of the Bannorn.

The General turned away from the view, to the path that led down the rocky hillside and into deep shadows and concealing fog. It was foreboding, the one trail either leading them to their needed destination or some dark end, but what else were they to do? They could wander this mountainous place, perhaps, but where would they end up? The Fade was anything but safe and certain. He knows enough about it to not trust his eyes here. Everything they see, those trees, those rocks, none of it is real and can spontaneously change in this daunting place. Regardless, the man walked on, Hordin following behind, both cautious as they felt the fog envelop them in a blanket of cold white haze.

The trees and cliffs turned into looming shadows, the red moon reflecting its light off the fog and created an outer layer of crimson mist, while the wet growls and chilling howls of angry wolves echoed in the windless air. Both Cullen and Hordin paused in their tracks, hands readily on their weapons, eyeing their concealed surroundings to the best of their abilities. They could see little beyond a few feet, unless something was up high, but their hearing was still intact - given the Fade didn't warp that sense as well. Nothing moved or neared them, the snarls of the beasts hidden further down the path. Everything about this place was quickly becoming unnerving. The duo continued forward, following the barely noticeable trail as they trudged over and down uneven ground, between grasping rock formations, and along narrow ledges. At every turn, they could almost feel death reaching for them, the sense of being watched nagging at the back of their minds, and the distance of these unseen wolves shifting in chaos.

"We're lost, aren't we?" Hordin asked, sounding nonchalant despite his true feelings. He was doing well in trying to contain himself, he knew just as well as Cullen that any over expression of emotion garnered attention.

"I.. I don't know. It's impossible to tell." The General responded with a level of calm, burying his uncertainty and unease.

"The demon is trying to confuse you." Valor spoke, both Hordin and Cullen spinning to face the spectral warrior. He had startled them, their blades fully unsheathed, and his crouched position above them didn't ease them either as he perched in an advantageous location. The spirit noted their concern and moved to join them, hopping down the incline. While he did so, his form changed to something more fitting to their environment, as four paws landed on the ground instead of two boots. "You are near your destination, only off track. I will lead you."

Shaking away his gawk, "Hold on! Wh-What the hell?! Why did-?!"

The ghostly wolf eyed Hordin, reading his thoughts, "I must disguise myself else risk discovery. If I am found, the demon will try to expel me from this realm, leaving you two on your own. Though I am confident in your martial capabilities, finding your way is proving a challenge." Neither Cullen or Hordin commented on that last part, keeping their mouths shut to their obvious disadvantage. Valor turned and began to lead them on, "Come."

The two cautiously followed, Hordin commenting, "This is bullshit. I hate the Fade."

Further into the unknown they went. The fog did not lessen, but its reach fell away from them thanks to the spirit's presence, revealing the rugged hazards of this world. It was a miracle the two hadn't fallen to a cruel fate earlier, given how close they walked to death's door. They both stared down the bottomless pit into nothingness, the gravel around their feet crumbling near the steep drop. As they moved past the gaping hole, they stepped carefully around spiked stalagmites and peaks clumped on the beaten path, avoiding a disastrous fall. And further down they practically crawled along a ledge barely the width of their feet, with the slope at their back bending outward, threatening to push them down a barbed wall of stone.

And then they stood at the edge of a bubbling pool, the air heavy with the taste of acid, and both men looked to the wolf and said, "No!" There was no argument, for none was allowed. Valor took them down a different path. Climbing the sheer rock face was far more appealing to the two soldiers, and they accepted the challenge and dangers of it. Valor waited for them at the top, the spirit had leapt vertically up the twenty or thirty feet, defying all laws of nature. Cullen could hear Hordin grumbling nearby, complaining and insulting the Fade and all its damnations. He didn't disagree with the man. When the Templar reached the top, he glared at the patient spirit before turning and offering a helping hand to the General.

"You have arrived." Valor said as the two moved away from the cliff's edge.

Cullen and Hordin were a bit puzzled, but also relieved in a sense, as they found a rustic log cabin, a similar shed, and a mine entrance nestled amongst the trees and rocks. The dark shadows were pushed back from the creepy buildings thanks to the red moonlight shining down from the open cliff side. A dim light could be seen inside the cabin, a lone lantern by judge of its strength and hue of glow, and the wood seemed to creak on its own. However, what stopped them from proceeding into that cabin was the fact that a person, or creature mimicking one, stood near the mine entrance.

"So. Do we ask questions before or after we start swinging?" Hordin asked as he glared at the distant figure who hadn't seem to take notice of them yet, despite their open location.

"We'll see." Cullen answered, completely comfortable with either option. He moved forward, his purposeful steps catching the attention of the "soldier" standing guard at the mine.

"Hold, strangers." the man held up a hand to halt them. "You are approaching Lord Addi's private property. What- **How** , did you get here?" He sounded perplexed by their sudden arrival.

"Lord Addi?" Hordin said with a measure of surprise, his brow foiled. "You mean the crazy guy with the hate-on for Asehan?"

"Asehan? You speak of the savage, yes?" The soldier responded, a sneer curling his nose, "That horned monster is undeserving of mercy. Lord Addi has done the land a service in removing it and its ilk from this world."

Cullen glared at the man, easily piecing together whose dream, or more appropriately, whose nightmare this was tailored to. "Where is the qunari?"

"Who's asking?" he spoke defensively, "What's the savage to you strangers?"

Cullen merely glanced at the irritated Nevarran. Hordin decked the guy square in the face, the punch breaking the man's nose and cracking his head against the stone when he tumbled back. The soldier toppled to the ground and didn't get back up. With a chuckle, "That felt good."

"We need to move quickly. It didn't make Asehan's position sound pleasing." Cullen urged. He stepped forward and pushed open the wooden door to the mine.

Like expected, it turned into a poorly lit tunnel of worked rock and rotting wood frames. The drips of liquid could be heard further in, along with growls and whines. Cullen slowly drew his blade as he moved forward, following the slight curve of the tunnel. There were a few barrels and crates piled along the way, a mining pick resting on the ground next to them, but their age and condition suggested they hadn't been touched in quite some time. Whatever activity worked this place now, it was not for mining. And the animalistic growls supported this as they eventually stepped into a cut out room. Iron cages filled much of this chamber, each insidiously crafted with barbs aimed inward to the wolves trapped within. They growled and whined, their frames weak and starved, their fur disheveled and splattered with dry blood.

Cullen wasn't expecting to find wolves. His surprise must have caught Hordin's attention as the man spoke. "I was told Asehan was in part raised by wolves. I thought everyone was joking, but damn... Looking at all this, I sure hope they were."

The two slowly moved through the maze of cages and snarling beasts. Most of the large canines remained near the back of their prisons, but a few lunged and threatened them as they passed by. Eventually they reached the far end of the chamber and its adjoining hall. Blood soaked the floor in a trail leading from the hall, that eventually turned out of sight, to the hanging remains of wolves skinned and butchered. Their bloody bones and hides dangled and dripped above the floor in the corner of the room. The smell was appalling. Continuing down the hall, a work bench coated in blood and messy utensils stood along the wall opposite of a reinforced wooden door. Examining the dull, rusty equipment, Cullen easily identified them as torture tools, and even despite their inefficient state, they were still in use. Recent use.

"You arrive."

Cullen spun around at the sound of the qunari's voice, Hordin quickly moving beside him as they approached the reinforced door. "Asehan!"

"What the hell man?! You alright?!" Hordin asked, his concern and discomfort obvious. There came a groan from the dark room. "Hold on, we'll bust the door down!"

"The key is under the table." the qunari replied, causing the two readying forces to stop.

They both turned and looked under the table, where they easily found a pair of keys on a large ring dangling from a splinter in the wood. "Huh, so it is." Hordin commented.

"Poor placement." Cullen added quietly.

The Nevarran took the keys and quickly began to work them on the door. There came an audible _thud_! as the lock shifted out of place, the heavy door pushed open thereafter. Both Hordin and Cullen stepped in and held their gasps at the sight of the qunari. His grey skin had been burned in many places, acid by the looks of it, and many new scars and wounds crisscrossed his chained body. His arms were stretched wide against the cold stone, baring many cuts and punctures, and an open wound seeped on his right side. His breathing was regulated, but it was obvious he was in a great deal of pain. Still, when Cullen looked into those black orbs, he saw pure hate and blood-thirst for the person responsible for his torment.

"Do you…" Hordin began, unsure on how to proceed as he tried the keys on the shackles, "Do we need to explain, what's _really_ happening?"

"I am aware of where we are and who you are." Asehan answered firmly, "I have already lived this moment once." The shackles snapped open and he rubbed the sensitive skin on his wrists momentarily before standing. Hordin gave him aid, the qunari silently thanking him, and then his attention turned to the open door. Cullen saw a dangerous hunger in those eyes.

"You're injured." the General pointed out, trying to discourage whatever dark thought plagued him.

"No. I am not." the qunari countered, walking forward as if the open wound in his side was nothing.

Hordin followed behind him, exiting and turning down the hall. "Where are you going?"

Asehan paused in his angry stride and glanced back to the two. "It is best if you remain here."

"... You're going to kill the Lord, aren't you?" Cullen surmised, identifying that vengeful look. Asehan nodded.

"You need a sword?" Hordin offered.

"No. I wish to do this with my bare hands." And then Asehan walked away.

Cullen didn't know if he should follow, to try to stop him, or remain as suggested. If the Lord was the demon, the qunari would need their help. Reluctantly, he waited. They both did quietly, waiting for the call for assistance or for the qunari to return. The few moments did not drag as soon the sounds of a startled man, older and with a weathered voice, came from down the hall. The startle quickly turned into panic and fear, mixed with rage and struggle. They listened to the cries of the distant Lord as they heard the snap of bones and the roar of the qunari. They listened to the pleas as they were buried by furious punches and the breakage of furniture. And at last the screams were drowned by an acidic burn and gurgle. Cullen's gut turned and twisted into a knot. Even knowing that this "Lord" was no more than a demon or creature of the Fade, the sounds of its agonizing demise was sickening. And when Asehan walked back down the hall moments later, he could not bear to look at him in the eye.

Asehan stopped in front of them, his bow and tabard now in his blood drenched hands. There was a pause of silence, his eyes aimed downward almost in shame. "Now I understand why." Neither of the warriors spoke, patiently waiting for him to continue. Asehan looked to Hordin then, staring him dead in the eye, "Pray you do not find your vengeance."

"Wh-What?"

"It is a dark path. Kathryn had saved me from it." Asehan explained simply, "Pray you are saved from it as well."

Nothing more was said. In time, the three exited the mine turned torture prison and escaping with them were the wolves. No longer were the creatures hostile or ill, as their health returned the instant they tasted freedom. The pack rushed out into the open night air with energy and bounce that put deer to shame, and their calls and howls were of thanks and rejoice. Asehan watched his family return to their woodland, before his attention was drawn elsewhere. Cullen and Hordin too turned to look upon the spirit Valor still in wolf form, the once red moon replaced with a soft natural blue silhouetting the creature. Valor turned to gaze upon that full moon positioned just right at the cliff's edge and the portal opened, the rings of its glowing face swirling away.

In a snap of protest and accusation, Hordin pointed at it in frustration. "You fucking kidding me?! This place has NO LOGIC!"


	5. Ch 5: The Sins of Youth

Stepping through the "moon" took more guts than anything, everyone's minds telling them they'd just fall right off the cliff instead, but this was the Fade. Cullen was the first one to test it, and only after he watched his hand go through that round glow did he proceed forward. Asehan quietly followed, his internal heat still brewing and easily mistaken for calm. Hordin was last and despite his reluctance, he practically ran straight through in a fit. When they stepped out the other side, the tiny _Dingle!_ of a small bell welcomed them and the sweet perfume of flora filled every sense in their bodies. Hordin had to skitter to a stop to avoid bowling over the two in front and crashing them into a lovely display of tiny potted rose bushes.

At their back, the brilliant sunlight beamed through floor to ceiling windows and the commotion of commerce could be heard. The small shop in which they found themselves in was quite charming and rigorously organized. Vibrant flowers and colorful leafy plants lined the walls on opposing sides, organized by height, color, and species, leading the eye and body to travel the full length of this room. Roses appeared to be the primary seller. In the center path, were five separate displays containing miniature versions of those presented on the walls, ground-cover plants, and decorations in the forms of polished stones, unrefined gemstones, and whimsical sculptures. Tucked in corners, under and around displays, as if cramped into any available space possible, were numerous pots and vases to hold the wide variety of flora, some simple and others so elaborate they argued to be the center of attention.

At the wide birch counter in back, humming happily was a very familiar dwarven lady. And as her bright eyes lifted to the approaching trio, a wide smile crossed her face, "Bienvenue! Welcome! My my, what brings three strapping men into my shop? I'm flattered." She placed a hand upon her chest in appreciation and then giggled. "Are we shopping for a loved one? Looking to impress a new date or empower a bond already made? I got everything you need and I can order anything you desire for your chosen love. And don't be shy to ask questions, I'm more than willing to help you out."

Cullen looked to Gabbie in a manner of surprise. She was very cheerful indeed, her hair done up with beads and flowers, wearing a frilly, high collared blue and green gown with matching mask, and she strangely spoke with an Orlesian accent. Was this her dream? To be a florist in Orlais? It sounded too simple and quant for someone prone to flirtatious avenues and dropping sexual themes in every sentence. She hadn't made such a comment yet. He would have thought it welcoming, but it somehow troubled him.

"A flower shop? Really?! That's cool!" Hordin called from the back, popping his head over Cullen's shoulder. "I didn't take you for the mercantile type, Gabbie."

The dwarf giggled, though a bit awkwardly as she tried to hide her discomfort. "Please, monsieur, address me as Lady Gabriella. Only my wife is allowed to call me Gabbie."

"Wife?" Both Hordin and Cullen blinked, the former grinning afterwards and commenting softly, "The things you learn."

The General soon cleared his throat, trying to return to the main issue, and gave Gabbie a more serious look. "Actually, my lady, we are here to see you."

"Moi?" She cocked her head. The confused look on her face was quick to disappear though, as a bright smile and giggle returned to her. "I'm flattered monsieur, but I am a married lady, as I said. Plus, dare I say, three of you with little o' me?" Gabbie suddenly covered her mouth and a blush coated her cheeks then. She felt embarrassed, and Cullen was just as surprised as she. She tried to wave it off, "Pardon me, that was improper for me to say."

Both Cullen and Hordin gave each other a glance, secretly and silently thinking of the same thing. If they could get her more _inappropriate_ side out, perhaps they could more easily explain their situation. Cullen was more than a little uncomfortable though, brushing a hand through his dirty blonde hair in uncertainty. Hordin, on the other hand, looked ready and eager for the challenge.

"How much?" Asehan asked, holding out a white and yellow flower to the dwarven woman, as if unaware of their circumstances.

"Dude! Seriously?!" Hordin complained in reflection of the qunari's actions, who merely gave him a glance.

" _Oh!_ A balsam, a most beautiful choice." Gabriella complimented. She gently took the delicate, tropical flower in hand to properly wrap it. "A single flower is only thirty silver, love."

"Hey hey!" Hordin quickly interrupted, waving a hand to both catch attention and show a measure of disapproval. "Love is **my** nickname," he pointed to himself. "Asehan's is big'ems and he's sweetie." He pointed to his counterparts appropriately.

"Oh, pardon, I dare not assume whom one infatuates with." Gabbie apologized with an arched brow and strained smile. Her comment caused both Templars to visible jump and then shutter, the two taking a step away from one another. Asehan didn't even twitch.

After nearly slapping his face with his palm, "Okay, that came out wrong. What I meant!" Hordin pointed towards her then, "was _**your**_ nicknames for _us_. Cause that's what you do. You nickname people. Especially strapping young men."

"I do not know what you mean. You must have me confused for someone else." Gabbie shook her head, dismissing his explanation.

"Come on, Gabbi-"

" **Lady** , Gabriella." She quickly corrected with a stern voice and harsh look.

"Sorry, _Lady Gabriella_ ," Hordin overexerted with a hand twirl, its sarcasm gaining him a sneer. "Do you not recognize us? After all these fun years?"

"I do not." she answered simply, not even looking at him now as she paid more attention to tying a bow around the thin glass vase holding Asehan's chosen flower. "You are confusing me with another."

Interrupting Hordin, "Have you ever been to Kirkwall?" Cullen asked, trying to sound more compelling than his counterpart. "Specifically the Blooming Rose?"

Gabbie looked over to him and paused. She hummed a little bit in thought, placing a finger on her chin symbolically. "The Blooming Rose? It's sound like a lovely place…"

Shifting his weight and ignoring the sudden snicker from Hordin, "Arguably. Many people find it.. appealing, to the eye." He tried to find the right word and hoped it sufficed.

"Appealing huh?" Hordin teased, "And how much time have you spent there, enjoying the _appeal_ , brother?"

"No more than necessary!" Cullen went on the defensive, glaring at the Nevarran.

With a laugh, "Which was what?! Everyday?! I remember how constricting those gallows can be."

Burying a growl and tightening a fist, "I never ventured there unless following an investigation!"

"Investigation, he says." Hordin quoted with his fingers. It got a giggle from the dwarf, but neither of the two really noticed. "How thorough were your _investigations_? Did you check every nook and cranny _,_ every divot and recess of the ladies? Do you do any _investigations_ here in Ferelden? Does Kat know-"

Cullen's face was on fire. "MAKER! NO! And why the hell would-?!" He quickly shut his mouth before continuing, instead growling in irritation as Hordin laughed at him. Rubbing a temple, "Can we move on to a different conversation?"

Gabbie laughed too, which this time did catch their attention. Hordin glanced back to the General and smirked, dangerously, before returning his attention to her. Leaning low and closer on the counter, "I hear someone's looking for a good _wrestling_ match, if you know what I mean?" He insinuated the stiffening man to his left, gaining another giggle from Gabbie. "And I have an idea on who he might be interested in too."

Cullen felt like slamming the Nevarran's head into the counter, but he quickly caught onto what he was trying to do. As much as he hated being the target of such ridiculous teasing, he knew how to bear with it and quietly grumbled through it. He only wished the heat on his face was mistaken as anger and not embarrassment, especially when Hordin began insinuating another into the equation. Now he felt like breaking the man's jaw so he'd stop talking. He better not be thinking of who he thinks he is! If these two begin believing he's imagining Kathryn in such… lecherous ways, Maker! He'd never hear the last of it and nor would she. Just thinking of how she might react made the General tremble. He'd rather turn into dust and fade into nothingness.

"- Ain't that right, brother?" Hordin asked, obviously after finishing a conversation with Gabbie that Cullen completely ignored.

"No!" He instinctively replied, glaring at both of them and their wide smiles.

They stared at him for a second, before Hordin snickered and Gabbie giggled. "No need to be shy, sweetie. I bet Kat would love a flower. _Especially_ from you."

Now it was Cullen who stared at them for a second, realizing they were indeed pairing him with Kathryn, and then afterwards realizing she had called him sweetie. The General eased a little bit, unclenching his hand from the ball of his hilt. The look on both of their faces were the ones he recognized, the two friends who seemed to enjoy causing him grief and pair together to cause trouble. He sighed with a level of relief.

Gabbie took a moment to reexamine her surroundings, her smile remaining but sadness entered her eyes. "A shame, really. I kinda liked it here."

"Yeah... I liked mine too." Hordin nodded, his voice softer to reflect sympathy and equal loss. "Mareece was alive in my dream." Gabbie reached over and placed a hand on top of his, silently apologizing and mourning with him. "Maker I need a drink." Hordin commented, his noise returning shortly as he addressed the others, "You think they have a bar here in the Fade?"

"How about a real one?" Cullen offered with a light chuckle, "I'll buy."

"Hell, yeah."

Hordin rose quickly and Gabbie eagerly made her way around the counter to join their side, her over fluffed gown replaced with her more reasonable armor. Cullen nodded to each of them and then turned his attention back to the main door. Valor was standing there, silent and vigil like. The spirit was haunting them like a ghost, appearing out of nowhere and causing them internal unrest. He remembered Cole doing such things even outside the Fade, though he felt he was nowhere near as disturbing as this spirit. Cole didn't have that judgmental feel to him.

"Oh?" Gabbie blinked when her eyes landed on the spectral warrior. A smile soon crossed her face, " _You_ must be Valor."

"You know him?!" Hordin snapped back to her in question.

"Of course love. Kat's told me about him before, though she left out the _spine-chilling charm_ he has." she hummed lightly, almost like a dangerous moan. It made both Hordin and Cullen groan in disgust.

"You have done well so far mortals." Valor said as he approached. "Not even the demons have come to disturb you... I sense a level of fear in them."

"Well, of course!" Hordin commented cockily, crossing his arms in certainty. "Who do you think we are? Wimpy flesh bags?"

"You are many things, mortal… But not what you say." Valor agreed with the Nevarran, though there was hesitation. The spirit then turned to Cullen. "A word of caution: A demon of Pride has a strong presence in the next chamber and a stronger hold on your friend. It will be difficult to succeed without a fight."

Cullen nodded in acknowledgement. "So be it. Where must we go?"

Valor gestured towards the back corner that was strangely bare in comparison to the rest of the shop. No one had noticed it, of course, until now. Hordin grumbled in his discomfort and irritation of how this world worked. Gabbie looked confused and Asehan was unmoving like usual. Cullen made his way over and pushed on the wall. To little surprise it began to move, opening a secret passage that was coated in shadow, much like the one in Skyhold, and he walked through. Already he could feel an uneasy weight in the air, along with a sour taste and unnerving twist in his gut. Another door stood in his way and without hesitation he swung it open.

The light of a deep red fire lit up this large, heavy room fit for a king. All the furniture was crafted of thick, dark wood, heads of powerful beasts were mounted on the walls, a dragon's above the roaring fireplace, along with weapons and tapestries depicting familiar heraldry, and the stone floor had a large circular rug in the center of it. However, Cullen did not catch all the details as his attention was immediately drawn to the movements and moans of ecstasy located on the canopy bed. He caught just a glimpse of the three bodies between the hanging sheer curtains, and it was enough to cause to him to swiftly turn away and practically bash his red face into the stone wall.

The others soon stepped through the secret doorway to find themselves in this sinful room, though they simply stopped in their tracks and stared at the commotion. "Huh." Hordin commented, "We sure this still isn't one of your fantasies?"

Gabbie giggled playfully in response. "If it is, **what** have I been _missing_?"

Cullen couldn't come to lift his head from the wall, pressing his forehead against the cold stone in hopes to ease his mind, though the sounds did not help! He was expecting to find and fight a Pride demon, not a sex scene! This was beyond embarrassing and disturbing. He did his best to drown everything out, trying not to faint in the process, while the others seemed content to simply watch! Not even the opening of the bedroom door tore him away from the stone, an unexplained fear settling in.

"Excuse me." the woman asked, her voice so familiar. Cullen didn't look up immediately, but when she spoke again he glanced over.

The General nearly choked as his heart shot up in his throat, his face brighter than the fire in the room. It was Kathryn, her brilliant green eyes capturing him and her dark hair done up in a messy bun. And she was dressed in a _very_ low cut, _very_ see through dress with high slits along the skirt part. He could see her nipples were perked and could even see the color of her delicate skin as if the revealing outfit was wet. She wasn't wearing anything underneath!

"I beg your pardon, but did his Majesty ask for you?" she asked using a strangely seductive tone, foiling her brow slightly in confusion. "We are in the middle of something."

Cullen couldn't muster a response, his tongue twisted in so many knots. Another woman giggled, though he barely noticed, and then he heard Hordin comment worriedly in the background, "Ah fuck. He's dead."

It was because Kathryn turned from him and gasped at something behind him, that caused him to finally look away. Cullen was thankful for it, even if that something happened to be Asehan tearing open the sheer curtains, startling those inside, and then ripping the man from the bed. The naked man yelled in protest and sudden fright as he was launched through the air and crashed hard on the stone floor. All the woman, including Kathryn and Maya, ran from the room like damsels.

Kyle rose to his feet hugging a rib, still at attention, and glared at the fuming qunari. "How dare you?! **Guards!** "

"Hot damn." Hordin said in a manner of stun, though slowly reaching for his weapon in reaction to the call of arms.

"Oh please, love. It's not really _that_ big." Gabbie added with a scoff, also going for her mace.

The Sergeant grabbed a sword and shield from the wall just as four royal guardsmen rushed into the room. **"Kill them!"**

Cullen was the first to be engaged by the well-prepared soldiers and he met them with renewed readiness. He easily dodged the first swing, blocked the next while cutting open the first guard's inner thigh, and twisted around the toppling man to slice open the second's hip. Gabbie quickly rushed forward and finished off the first guard with a solid mace to the face, while Hordin guarded Cullen's flank and severed the arm from the incoming attack, before finishing off the poor soul completely. The trio made quick work of the heavily armored royal guard, but more rushed into the room like salmon in migration, a never-ending tide. While at their back, Cullen could hear Asehan tossing Kyle around the room like a toy, the Sergeant nowhere near the strength, skill, or rage of the qunari.

The General finished off the next three opponents and let out a command, "Hold them!" He then spun around to intervene the two in back. Hordin said something when he left, he couldn't tell if it was a retort or acknowledgement, and he didn't care. He needed to stop Asehan before he killed Kyle. The two warriors had managed to push the soldiers back to the door, using it as a choke point, but Hordin couldn't hold it forever, even with Gabbie there to assist him. The dwarven woman was smart though, as she startled to push one of the heavy dressers to block the entrance.

Kyle swung his sword wide at the agile qunari, who dashed forward as the last second and caught his arm mid-strike. Asehan then delivered a powerful blow to his elbow, the _Snap!_ audible even in the room of combat, coupled with Kyle's screams. The sword clanked to the ground and the qunari backhanded the younger man, spinning him around to fall back onto that soggy, love soaked bed, his bloody nose staining the sheets.

"Asehan! Stop!" Cullen ordered.

The General moved to get between them, but the qunari was practically atop the arrogant bastard. He thrust his long blade forward, causing the archer to rethink and reprioritize his target. Asehan easily dodged backwards and moved to counter with a similar move to what he did to Kyle, but Cullen saw it coming and dipped low, spinning his blade in hand and cutting across both the archer's legs. Asehan let out a snarl as he stumbled slightly, Cullen using that moment to push him back with his shield. With a quick jump, he slammed into his torso and sent the larger man staggering backwards and to the floor.

Cullen glared back at the Sergeant, "Call them off! Tell your men to stand down!" Kyle didn't seem to hear him, his head and body rotating as if spinning, probably from the head blow.

Asehan had returned to his feet now, glaring at the General in a measure of disapproval and assessment. Cullen glared back, not backing down. He didn't know what caused this outburst, but he wasn't going to let him kill Kyle. The archer rotated his powerful bow from his back and notched an arrow. Cullen took a more defensive position favoring his shield. Asehan pulled back and then released his arrow over towards the door. The projectile struck deep into a soldier's helm, sending the man stumbled back into the hall. It opened up the doorway, allowing Hordin to slam the door shut and Gabbie to slide the dresser in front of it. That would buy them time.

"Asehan." Cullen spoke sternly, looking for an explanation.

The qunari lowered his bow to no longer threaten him and answered. "If he touches her in life, General, I will kill him."

"He's talking about dear Maya!" Gabbie explained from the door, both she and Hordin keeping it closed against the banging.

So, that was it. Kyle's fantasy involved the elven assassin that apparently held the attention of the qunari. He could recognize the rage then. Cullen dropped his defensive stance, sheathed his weapon, and turned to the now mumbling man on the bed.

"I'm.. King… Guards, stop… them…" Kyle was trying to crawl away, but was actually getting nowhere. It was pathetic.

With a frustrated groan, "Get up." Cullen soon grabbed the man by the shoulder and pulled him upright. "I said get up!"

"Yes, sir." Kyle whispered a natural response to a superior. The bloody and beaten man sat at the edge of the bed for a moment, slowly regaining his senses. Eventually, he shook his head of the blur and glared up at both Cullen and Asehan. "Wh-What's going-? Who are you?! What do you want?! And keep that, _savage_ , away from me!" He commanded with an accusing finger point, receiving a harsher glare from the qunari.

"You want to know what's going on?" Cullen glared, his own anger for some reason rising as he continued to look upon the man. "We're trapped in the damn Fade! All of this around you is a lie! Created by a demon preying upon your selfishness and self-righteousness!"

"Ridiculous!" Kyle spat back, "I am the King of Ferelden and you've just invaded my palace! You're usurpers looking to take my throne, that's what you are!"

"You're no King. Ferelden wouldn't allow a man like you to become king." Cullen growled with clenched fists, almost looking to pummel the man himself. "You're a swiveling weasel looking for the best chance at glory with the least amount of effort! You boot lick and grovel your way to the top for no one's benefit but your own! Even if it means casting aside the lives and rightful respects of others! And when it comes to owning your mistakes, you push the blame onto someone else because you're too much of a coward to accept failure!"

"H-H-How dare you?!" Kyle stuttered in response, losing much of his voice to the much stronger man. "I-I _am_ King!" It started to sound like he was trying to convince himself just as much as the General.

"Alright, _your majesty_ ," Cullen said coldly, the harsh glare sending a shiver down the pasty man's spine, "Then where were you during the Breach? Where were you when demons began raining from the sky?! Or the Blight?! Where were you back then?! Watching the world burn while you drowned yourself in women?!"

"I don't know wh-what you're talking about! Th-There was no.. Blight! A-And I...!"

"Have you even fought darkspawn before, **Sergeant**?" Cullen asked, not once losing the chill in his voice or eyes. "Did you join the Grey Wardens just so it'd look good on your resume?!"

"N-N… No." Kyle shook his head, breaking under the General's authority. "I-I joined them for… other reasons. B-But, no less selfish." He looked down to the floor in shame, unable to lift his head to face the people in the room. There was only a minor pause, and it was filled with intensity. "I became a Warden, b-because I wanted… I wanted to be Arl, and I-I thought, with a mage inexperienced with politics, it would be.. easy. That I could, take advantage of her."

"Seriously?! And here I thought you couldn't get any lower!" Hordin snapped his head around in a fit of his own anger, Gabbie glaring with equal heat.

The Sergeant's final comment pushed Cullen over the edge though. He realized his growing anger against the man wasn't wholly on the fact that he was a pathetic worm, but because of how he viewed Kathryn. He turned a strong, compassionate woman who does everything in her power to help others, into his play thing. A weak doll only there for his own amusement and gain. The General growled and suddenly punched the looks of a man across the face. Kyle fell back onto the bed, curling up in a ball and yelling into the sheets. Oh, how Cullen wanted to continue, but he still had restraint and control.

"Maker take you." Cullen hissed and stepped away in a fume. "We're done here! Let the demon keep you, for all I care!"

Everyone had gone quiet, Hordin and Gabbie staring at him in a manner of disbelief, but Asehan followed behind without complaint or concern. Cullen then stopped and swiftly looked to the dragon head positioned above the fire. A strange sense had caught his attention, as if something was hiding. Something powerful. He glared at it and readied to draw his blade again.

There came a dark, sinister chuckle in response. "You don't really mean that, do you?"

Now everyone's attention turned to the dragon head. No longer did guards pound on the door. No longer did the fire burn red. A smoke slowly flowed from the dragon's maw, drifting with pompous grace, and began to build itself in front of the now violet fire. It grew larger and bulkier, horns and spikes protruding off its smoky form. It was the Pride Demon, an illusion of it at least.

"I can feel you despise the man, but even **you** wouldn't leave him in _my_ care." the demon spoke with a light chuckle. "Not without real reason. _Perhaps_ if he succeeded in his plan to become Arl, and ruin the woman you cherish so much." Cullen glared at the smoky projection, to which it only laughed more. "I'm sorry. Did I just expose one of your well-kept secrets? A pity."

"Please!" Gabbie interrupted, dismissing the demon's flaunt with a huff and giving it a stern look. "We already figured that out, ugly! Why don't you go back to your little corner and rethink your ploys?! We've got important business to handle and not the time to waste with you!" Her reaction was unexpected.

The smoky form glared, the purple glowing eyes able to portray that much. "A spunky one, I see. And inferior in all cases." The comment got a snap from the woman, but it didn't let her get a word in. "You forget whose world you dwell in. I control everything around you… I will keep my pet and you will never be free until I see fit that you can leave." The demon chuckled, "And I'm not done playing yet."

In swift motion, Hordin lunged forward and sliced through the dark smoke with his greatsword, severing it in half from shoulder to hip. The demon laughed as it dissolved away, its dark chuckle echoing off everything in the room. Hordin growled and readied for an incoming attack, looking in all directions for his monstrous target. Instead, the fire suddenly died and the room fell to shadow, followed by a quake that shook the confines of the chamber. Stones split and ruptured as cracks suddenly tore through the floor, walls, and ceiling. Bits of the latter began falling upon those below. Curses and calls were sounded, but they were drowned by the roar of the room tearing itself apart. The entire back wall suddenly collapsed and fell back into a spiraling vortex of green and black, taking with it the bed and the screaming Sergeant who clung to the large furniture with unrelenting fear.

"Kyle!" Gabbie called out. She was the only one, and though she wanted to rush to save him, the sudden pull of wind forced her to instinctively grab onto something.

The vortex was colossal! A spitting image of the Breach. A spiral of dark clouds filled with debris and raw power, a sickly, eerie green energy consuming everything it touches. Jets of green fire sprayed outward from the mass, slamming and bursting around the room where everyone struggled to remain, tearing it further apart and having it sucked in by the pull of the vortex.

"Shit! The Door!" Hordin called out, slamming his fists against the stone wall where once the door stood. They were trapped; trapped between a wall and hungry void quickly consuming the rest of the room.

"There's no exit?!" Gabbie fearfully called out through the raging wind. Her feet were slipping, the stone offering little grip for her boots. She hung onto the heavy dresser with all her might, but when it too began to move, she let out a squeak of fear.

Hordin quickly reached and grabbed her just as she began to take to the air. "I got you!"

Cullen and Asehan were up against the wall, both trying to keep low to strengthen their weight, but even if they could resist the suction, the floor would crumble right under them and leave them with nothing. It was bleak! The General struggled to find an exit, anything that could prove itself a doorway in this accursed place! The demon was tearing everything apart, what may have been was no longer possible. They were quickly running out of opinions, and they started with very few. He thought about calling out to Valor. Asking for help from the Spirit. But was that wise? Could he trust it? Everything he was taught told him he couldn't. Everything he's seen and faced supported his teachings. Except… Cole. Cole was a spirit and he helped the Inquisition greatly. Though he spent little time around the Fade creature, Cullen… trusted him? Yes, he did.

"Valor!"

And in an instant, he was there. The blue warrior morphed from the thin air before them, his attention facing the vortex threatening their lives, and he stabbed his two blades into the stone floor. A bright blue energy shot outward from his twin weapons, filling in the cracks and splits between the stonework, and with his power held them in place. The winds continued to try and pull them out, the balls of fire continued to rain down upon them like catapults, but the spirit rose an invisible barrier to protect them.

"GO!" Valor called back to them.

Cullen eyed the warrior and then turned his attention to the remains of the "north" wall. An odd glow had formed, as if an oval light was highlighting the wall where none existed. "Hordin! There!"

"Here goes nothing!" the Nevarran shouted, holding the dwarf in his arms. He let out a roar as he charged towards that round light, Gabbie yelling along with him, and the two slammed right through.

Cullen turned to Asehan, the qunari giving him a firm nod. The two then sprinted towards the "door", the suction latching onto them like shackles and not letting go. But chains can be broken. The duo fought against their restraints, each step slowing but purposefully moving forward. As Cullen neared, he lost his footing, fear shooting through his chest as he fell to one knee, but he caught himself on the edge of the still half-intact fireplace. Asehan grabbed him by the arm too, the large qunari crouched beside him refusing to let him go, and worked to pull him along. Cullen hesitated though, his attention looking back to the struggling spirit. The stones were beginning to crumble again, new cracks tearing through the walls. The power and draw from the Pride Demon was intensifying in hopes to swallow the spirit along with everything else.

"Go." Valor said, his low voice somehow audible over the winds. Or rather, he was speaking to Cullen mentally. "Save the Commander, General. Find your way home... Keep your courage and I will find my way back to you."

"General!" Asehan called to him, though he barely heard.

Cullen at last turned away from the spirit and, with Asehan's help, followed the others through the portal. The light became brighter, warmer, and then the musk of a prairie land hit them. He felt air and weightlessness as he found himself toppling forward, out of that portal, and hit the steep side of a hill and began to roll. Both he and Asehan. They splashed into the soft, thick goo of mud at the bottom, hearing _plops_ and _sperps_ , the dark substance hugging and clinging onto them.

" _Gah!_ It's in my hair!" Gabbie whined, Hordin bursting into hearty laughter soon after.

Cullen lifted himself to his hands and knees, his entire front and left side covered in the wet dirt, and when he looked upon the others, they were in much the same shape. Hordin was soaked on his left side and back, having taken the landing for poor Gabbie who was splattered all over with clumps. Asehan fared about the same as the General, his white hair turned brown for the most part. Cullen began to chuckle, then laugh at the realization that they were still alive, unharmed, and covered in mud. Asehan joined in and for a moment, all of them were laughing in the revelation.

Staring down at the weird assortment of people, the young Dalish shook his head with a huff. "You guys are too loud for your own good."

Everyone quickly looked up to see the elf standing above them on top of that hill they all toppled down. A wide smile crossed Hordin's face, "Kid! Bout time we found you!"

"Little Orin!" Gabbie added in cheer, both she and the Templar happy to see the elven mage.

Orin let out a heavy sigh, almost regretting having found the group. He looked only a little different than usual, Cullen noted. He wore elven robes instead of the light armor of the Wardens, but otherwise remained the same. Probably because he incorporated his heritage into his armor. And the fact that he approached them and treated them like normal, meant that he was mentally aware of their true surroundings. Cullen was thankful. Thankful that now they had a mage on their side, someone who probably knew what the hell was going on.

The young elf took a moment to examine all of them while they pulled themselves out of the mud pit. "Where's the Commander? She's not leading you?"

"A good question." Cullen muttered as he pulled himself out. He turned around and offered a hand to Gabbie afterwards, who eagerly accepted the help. "And no, she is not."

"Actually," Hordin began, walking over and plopping a muddy hand on Cullen's shoulder. "This guy is the reason we're all here. He saved all our asses."

Orin looked perplexed and a sneer was quick to cross his face. He became suspicious, and when he walked down the smoother hillside to greet them, he stopped and aimed the end of his gnarled staff at Cullen, the spark of fire visible. Everyone paused. "That's impossible! How could **he** _possibly_ lead you through the Fade?! Only a mage can do that! Or a denizen!"

"What are you suggesting kid? That he's either? Put your staff down!" Hordin retorted, gesturing for Orin to aim his weapon elsewhere. "What's your problem?!"

"Step away from him! He's not who you think he is!" Orin warned, his glare firmly placed on the General, the power building in his staff to further prove his point. "They say the most cunning and powerful demons take the forms of those closest to you, tricking you into doing their bidding, without you ever knowing."

"What?! I'm not a demon!" Cullen affirmed, matching the youth's fiery stare. Calming down from the insult, he tried to explain himself, "We've been moving around thanks to the aid of a _spirit_. My skill and involvement included only freeing everyone from their mental imprisonments."

"Oh really? Do you even know the difference between a spirit and demon?! How can you be certain it wasn't a demon that's been leading you around?! Either you're lying or you're just stupid!" Orin huffed, nearly spitting in his little rant. His eyes narrowed in some form of recognition. "There's something off about you. Something… unnatural! I can sense it! You can't be who you claim to be!"

"But..." Gabbie came to Cullen's defense. "There was a spirit. It was Valor, Kathryn's invisible friend."

"And how does he know about it?!" Orin questioned. "He met Kathryn two days ago! There's no way! He's using the illusion of the spirit to gain your trust! It's trying to trick you!"

There was a moment of pause between them, the young elf scoffing while the others went quiet. To Cullen's disappointment, Hordin and Gabbie stepped away from him in caution. He didn't blame them, as he would have done much the same if their roles were reversed. Trusting a mage about things of the Fade was more reasonable than the ex-Templar who never stepped foot in the haunting place. And thinking on it, he didn't completely understand how he could move around so effortlessly. He wondered if the others saw things as clearly as he did even. He did know the spirit had nothing to do with it, and when Valor tried to explain to him how, he didn't believe him, so why should they? Nonetheless, now he was met with a new challenge: he had to prove to them that he was mortal, the real thing, not a demon in disguise.

Cullen watched Orin carefully, the two staring each other down in the open field of golden grass. He could make out the shapes and color of distant trees, their fall leaves of deep crimson and purple, and the wind was strong, but dry. They weren't in Ferelden, he believed, more likely Southeast Orlais in the Exalted Plains. The temperature was too mild to be his homeland. With a begrudging sigh, Cullen slowly drew his weapons. Orin looked ready to cast his spell, the air growing warm and heavy from his magic, but then the General dropped his sword and shield on the ground. The surprise was almost priceless on the elf's face.

"If you're going to strike me, then do it. Stop gawking and prove which one of us is lying." Cullen said firmly, unafraid of the mage's might. He had seen it, had felt its heat, and he knew he could endure it for at least a little while.

Orin hissed and narrowed his eyes to where it looked like he could barely see out of them. He didn't like the challenge, the calm and confidence in the General. He lowered his staff, almost as if to cancel his spell. It was a bluff. He quickly spun it upwards and shot an arcane bolt straight into Cullen's chest. The man lurched and staggered backwards from the hit, growling and groaning through the pain as it felt like he was just hit with a boulder. And then the actual boulder hit him, a fist-like shape of rock, again knocking him square in the torso and this time throwing him off his feet. He slid a few feet back in the grass, a cough struggling to escape him as he fought to find air.

Cullen placed a hand on his heaving chest, feeling the large dent in his armor pressing against him, strangling his lungs, and slowly began to rise. He made it to his knees when he felt the air dry up and heat surrounded him as fire quickly encircled him. He squinted through the fiery glow that nearly blinded him. He couldn't make anything out through the haze and he could barely hear the others over its rage. He thought he heard Orin curse though. Smoke entered his already wheezing lungs, forcing out several more coughs, and he immediately felt sweat beginning to form on his skin. And then the blaze intensified into a towering inferno, completely cutting him off from the rest of the world, hungering to consume him in its twisted fury. He had to get out of it, else he would be.

The General leapt and rolled through the flame, feeling the hot touch lick across his entire body, melting through his armor and searing his skin. He managed to roll to his feet on the other side, hissing through the scorching pain. The dry grass would have caught fire if they were anywhere but the Fade. Thank the Maker for small favors. Orin looked even more upset to see him alive, than if he had transformed into some demon or other. The Dalish called upon more of his fiery magic, ready to end the man's life without a second thought.

"Orin! Stop!" Gabbie called out, throwing herself between the two combatants, arms spread wide in hopes to cover Cullen. "Please stop!"

Hordin simultaneous grabbed the mage by the arm with one hand and ahold of his staff with the other. "Enough Kid! The point's proven!"

Still, Orin fought against them to finish the job, the rage in his eyes hotter than earlier. An arrow suddenly shot through the air and pierced Cullen in the arm. The man let out a quick cry from the pain, the arrow shaft deep to its feathers, blood beginning to soak his sleeve and run down the protruding projectile to drip off its head. He glared over at Asehan in a manner of stun.

The qunari calmly turned to the mage. "Demons do not bleed red."

The simple statement appeared to be enough. With a huff _,_ Orin dropped his spell and magic, the fires vaporizing. He shook Hordin off him with the remnants of his anger. The Templar snorted with disapproval and then turned to go check on the injured General. Asehan came to Cullen's side first, working to extract the arrow from his bicep. He stripped off the colorful feathers and then shoved the entire shaft through his bleeding limb, Cullen groaning through it. He was aware the qunari didn't use the full strength and draw of his weapon, else he might have lost his arm, and was only trying to help. Still, he didn't feel very thankful towards the archer.

Hordin came up to them and looked him over. Cullen doubted he looked pretty, much of his exposed skin was scorched. With a snort, "You don't look half-bad, given the shit thrown at you. Praise Andraste for lyrium, right?"

Cullen looked the Templar right in the eye, his breath still a little weighted. _"What lyrium?"_

Hordin's jaw could've fallen into the abyss with his stricken silent. Asehan chuckled. Cullen shoved past the two to recollect his gear, still feeling slightly wounded from everyone's "betrayal" - even if he could justify it. He eyed the Dalish for but a second, Orin glaring back equally, before re-equipping himself. Gabbie approached then to see if he was okay and he dismissed her concern with a raised hand and stern glare. They shouldn't waste any more time on the matter, it was done, they needed to focus on finding their way to the others who were still trapped. To finding their way home and out of this place.

"Listen up." he announced to the strange collection of individuals, "We are to assume Valor is indisposed at the moment, so we must rely on ourselves to find the next exit and path to Kathryn. Orin, as seeing how you're the _expert_ here," There was sarcasm and bitterness in his tone, to which the elf easily caught, "you're going to figure that out. The rest of us will keep a look out for any sign of danger or opportunity. I have the feeling the demon we left behind isn't done with us yet."

"Good!" Hordin smirked, clapping a fist into one hand. "Cause I'm looking forward to cutting that bastard in two."

"What about Kyle? Shouldn't we.. go back?" Gabbie asked, uncertainty thick in her question.

"We can do nothing for him right now. Once we find Kathryn, we'll have the strength and knowledge to attempt a rescue." Cullen answered sincerely. Though he still had his doubts.

"You left him behind?" The young mage scoffed, "Of course you did."

"Just as you would have done if it were me." Cullen rebound, the truth of the statement shushing the elf. Getting back to the point, "Now. Find us a way out of here."

Orin gave a low grumble and slow nod, finally accepting their position. The elf stood silent for a moment, thinking everything over, but not once did he lift his head to look around. Was he not going to look for any signs? Any indications on how to leave? Did he want to? Could he? Cullen was a bit unsure suddenly, especially when he noticed a worried look cross the elf's face. The youth then motioned for everyone to follow, strangely hesitant in the idea, and that troubled the General more. Orin began to lead them towards the outcropping of trees not far off. It was a wondrous woodland, the autumn leaves falling gracefully around them in some forgotten dance, the breeze passing lazily between the white barked trees, and the ground was covered in the low foliage of clovers and fragrant mint. The shadows here weren't dark and provided a level of calm relaxation. It felt tranquil and yet, for some reason, Cullen couldn't shake the twist in his gut. Something was unsettling about the woodland.

Upon turning the next bend, they found themselves approaching a thriving camp of Dalish elves. They had sturdy, pitched tents and air carriages, healthy fire pits, able hunters and crafters, and even a large herd of Halla grazing in the nearby area. Everyone and everything looked very peaceful and overall happy, though several of the Dalish stopped to stare at the shemlens, dwarf, and qunari as they entered. There were a few comments made as they walked through the camp, but no one rose while Orin lead them towards a particular person. Standing and discussing theories, from what Cullen caught, was a very familiar twin elf and much older elven man. The elder's slim face and faded tattoo were dragged down by numerous wrinkles, his salt and pepper hair braided back in a long tail, and his milky eyes were quickly losing their sight. He wore the long, traditional green/blue robes of the Dalish magi.

The elven assassin was dressed in tight leggings and studded leather armor which looked leafy in appearance. She also had tattoos on her face, curvy lines and dots following her braided mohawk and stopping at eye level. And as Cullen quietly observed the two, standing side by side, he noticed vague similarities. Family recognition? Was the elder their grandfather perhaps?

"Keeper. Sister." Orin greeted, bowing his head to the aging elf and Maya. "These are my friends and we must talk. We... need to be leaving soon."

With a weak nod and airy voice, "I see, yes.. The calls, of.. adventure, are too promising, at times." The older man spoke slowly and even looked at the verge of falling asleep. He calmly turned to the group and gave a wobbly wave. "I welcome, you.. travelers. Please.. sit, and stay a while."

Cullen rose a polite hand, "I'm afraid we can't stay. We must keep moving if we are to have any luck finding the others." His gaze turned to Orin for a moment, "I don't know _why_ we were brought here, but hopefully there's a point." The Keeper hummed in response.

"I will leave you in peace then." Maya said with a gentle bow, addressing the Keeper and her brother. Her voice was rather sweet and soothing, and it startled nearly everyone. "If you are in need of me, just call."

"You can talk?!" Hordin blurted out, nearly stumbling over Gabbie who stood in front of him. "Wait, yeah. Of course. We're in the Fade. And you're not actually..." He head hung and he sighed as the realization caught up to him and then waved it all off, "Just ignore me."

"Idiot." Orin mumbled under his breath. His long look was quick to change however, to something a bit more worrying and shameful even, his gaze lowering momentarily. Cullen noticed the shift, as brief as it was, and how the elf quickly buried his hidden concern behind a mental barrier. After Maya left, Orin took in a deep breath and gestured towards the Keeper, "This is Nothrôtita. He's a spirit of patience. And a, friend." He paused as he accessed the others, reading their quiet acceptance and caution. "He can help us figure out where to find the commander. We can trust him." Cullen doubted that last part, and even Orin didn't sound so sure about it.

"If you say so." Gabbie giggled lightly before she turned to the spirit and smiled, "Tita, was it? Or would you prefer Nothrô?" The dwarven woman didn't pause long enough to allow the "aged" spirit to respond. "Anyways, how can we help? Just tell us what needs to be done, so long as it's not _too_ complicated, some of us need proper _guidance_ , if you know what I mean?" She giggled again at the end, receiving a hum from the spirit.

"Your, commander… She is hidden, deep, within." The spirit said with equally slow hand gestures. Maker, it was tiring just watching it move. "I can.. sense.. a great fear, in her."

"Fear?" Hordin arched a brow and scoffed with a chuckle. "Yeah right. Kathryn's not scared of anything. Maybe you're _sensing_ someone else."

"There is still Maya." Asehan added, his calm demeanor hiding his concern for the elven woman.

The spirit let out another hum of thought, a long pause following. Only the calm breeze made any "quick" motions. Gabbie eventually took a seat on a stool nearby, crossing her legs as she waited. Hordin began to stretch his back and arms, twisting his torso left then right. Orin stood quietly next to his "Keeper", gently tapping his fingers on his staff rhythmically. Cullen was trying to be patient, to not get irritated. He wanted to get out of here as quickly as possible, but felt rushing the spirit wouldn't help in the long run. He thought it would be easier, thinking the spirit's aura might have an effect on them, but this was ridiculous!

The General looked to Orin. "How long is this going to take? Can't the spirit just show us to the portal?" When the mage did not respond, or even make eye contact, did he begin to become suspicious. His attention returned to Nothrô, examining it in greater detail. If it wasn't humming, he might have thought it dozed off, and he could sense that soft, relaxing humming wash over them like Kathryn's healing mist. It was as if the spirit was searching _through_ them and not their environment for the answers. Cullen crossed his arms and again turned to young elf, "What is it _doing_ , Orin?" He made sure to use a more demanding tone this time.

"Scrying." Orin answered with minor irritation.

" _Ah_. There she is." The spirit finally spoke, interrupting Cullen in a timely manner. It looked over to him, viewing him as the person in charge. "Your commander… she is trapped, by a, Fear demon… a strong one, too. It blocks.. much of my, sight."

"How can we get to her?" Cullen was quick to ask, not wanting the geezer to keep stammering. "Where is the portal that enters that realm?"

The spirit stared at him for a bit, causing the General to narrow his eyes in raising frustration. With a slow, semi-shaky hand, it pointed over to a pool of water near the Halla. "She is, there… If you-"

"Good." Cullen was quick to turn away from the tiring spirit and headed towards the pool. "Let's get going. We've wasted enough time."

"What of Maya?" Asehan asked. He appeared to be the only one still paying attention as both Hordin and Gabbie were busy picking at grass or examining the woodland. The qunari calmly approached the spirit. "Where is she?"

"She.. is here, of course." The spirit gestured to the assassin that sat with a group of other Dalish elves around a fire. "Orin, found her.. And brought, her, here."

Asehan looked over at the elven maiden for only a few seconds before returning his attention to the spirit. He glared lightly, "That is not Maya. That is another illusion. Why do you lie spirit?"

Why indeed, unless of course it was a... Cullen spun back around, having walked roughly ten feet away, and glared at both the Keeper and Orin. It made sense now. Why everyone was growing tired and slow, their attentions weakened in the creature's presence, it was a demon of Sloth. And it was trying to keep them here. Anger rushed to his face and he immediately drew his blade. Asehan was swift to act as well, dashing forward and grabbing Orin by the arm while shoving the demon aside, separating them. The young Dalish protested in his surprise, while the older elf toppled over to suddenly wobble and spin back up - as if bouncing off the ground like concealed liquid. Its body bent in weird, uncomfortable ways and moved like no bones existed. Even when an arrow sank deep in its forehead, sending its head far enough to hit its spine, there was no audible breakage, no uneasy snap, and no tear in the flesh.

Again, the demon tumbled down to only bounce back onto its feet. Asehan released two more arrows, but with a wave of its hand, the demon turned the howling projectiles into harmless grass. That startled the usually stoic qunari. Cullen quickly closed in behind it, slicing his sword right through its midsection, nearly severing it completely in two. He did hear a bemoaning groan come from the creature, and saw its milky eyes suddenly turn to him. The hiss behind its claws gave the General enough warning to dodge sideways, receiving only three painful cuts across his jaw and cheek as the demon spun its upper torso almost completely around. With its back turned, three more arrows struck it along the spine, one of the points piercing deep enough to poke out the other side. Again it groaned.

"Hordin! Gabbie! Get off your asses!" Cullen ordered, shield blocking a magical wave of energy that swept across the camp. The arcane power staggered everyone to the ground that was resisting the demon and beaconed everyone under its call to act. The Dalish elves rose and pulled weapons.

"No…" Orin stammered while on the ground, fear and sorrow reigniting in the young elf. "Not again… not again."

"Orin! We need you-!" Asehan turned back to him, only to be interrupted with an arcane bolt straight to the chest. The large qunari was knocked on his back, gasping for some air.

"Shit!" Hordin cursed as he struggled to stand. He growled and forced himself up, staggering as he charged in the direction of the demon, drawing his blade midway through. "You can't.. keep me down!" His attack was sloppy, missing, as he continued to resist the demon's slowing effect.

The demon wasn't quick, but its body moved like water as it twisted and contorted to avoid or negate devastating blows. Additionally, arrows began to fly at the battling trio from the demon's minions and curved blades closed on their exposed sides. The shots were nowhere near the accuracy of the real renown Dalish marksmen, but still many found their marks. Cullen was forced to go on the defensive, using his shield to its fullest, while deflecting and parrying incoming sword swipes. Hordin got riddled with arrows the most, but their sting only seemed to anger him and increase his mental resistance against the demon. Luckily, that's where he focused and he soon earned the demon's full attention. Asehan was able to dodge and dive behind cover, swiftly moving between the trees as he launched counter strikes at the fake elven archers.

Gabbie was lying prone on the ground, the dwarven Warden having fallen asleep during the height of battle. Orin had crawled away from the fight, holding his staff in front of him like a frightened child. He was spooked, his skin pale and eyes wide. He watched in horror as the Dalish elves, his family and clan, fought against his friends and allies, and were being torn to pieces. The qunari shot down the archers in the background, the power behind his bow twisting them into the air or pinning them dead to trees. The General cut down those in melee, his blade severing limbs like they were made of paper and slicing open their throats. And the Templar brushed off the Keeper's magic and closed with his massive weapon, cutting him up bit by bit, chunk by chunk.

The sky suddenly darkened and hungry fires swept through the camp, consuming the livelihood of the elves and entrapping everyone inside. Screams and crying were carried on the harsh wind that blew past, echoing off the darkness created by the forest and fires. Cullen panted and coughed minorly as he observed their new environment. No more elves stood in their way and even the demon had disappeared, leaving them alone to stand at the massacre site against the Dalish. Bodies littered the blood-soaked ground all around them, their eyes blank and faces contorted from fear. It was horrifying, sickening, and when Cullen looked over to Orin he saw he was crying. Tears were rolling down the sobbing youth's face, hands clamped around his head, the elf crumpled up in a ball at the base of a tree, muttering to himself.

"What the?" Hordin commented off to the side. He was looking down at his armor, the armor of a Templar Knight. And it was splattered with blood, his sword dripping with the liquid.

"This is.. uncomfortable." Asehan added on, the large archer also wearing Templar armor with a helm hiding the fact that he was a qunari.

Cullen looked down to himself and noticed the same thing. The steel plate smeared with blood, the dark liquid tracing the insignia on his chest. He stared down at his longsword, watching the red run down the sharp edge. The screams grew louder, and this time he didn't know if they belonged to the elves or the mages who found themselves at his mercy. Images of dying magi, most young and frightened, flashed before his eyes against the sheen of his blade. The very blade that cut them down without a second thought or care. They were monsters, abominations that needed to be removed from the world. No one was going to miss them. No one was…

Cullen shook his head of such thoughts, drowning out the old anger and pain that filled him up years ago, and focused on the situation at hand. This visage belonged to Orin, the Dalish mage who was once First to the Keeper and who watched the slaughter of his clan by his hated enemy, the Templars. Now he understood why. Why the youth despised and distrusted the Order, and anyone associated with the Chantry. They were responsible for the death of his family, save his own sister. And as Cullen made a quick visual search of the area, the assassin was nowhere to be seen - her presence erased as if she was never here. With a heavy sigh and heart, the General slowly approached the poor mage.

"Orin."

The young elf jumped and whimpered, before swinging his staff outward with a blast of fire magic. "Stay away!"

Cullen blocked the weak shot, the fire bursting across his shield and disappearing in seconds. Strangely he didn't even feel its heat. It was probably because the mage saw him as a Templar, resistant to his spells. "Orin, listen to me. This isn't real, this isn't happening."

"Sh-Shut up!" Orin shouted back, anger beginning to mix in his fear and sorrow. "You monster! You killed them!" He called upon another wave of fire magic, the orange energy gathering in the head of his gnarled staff.

Cullen caught the staff in his hand before the magic was released, the fire licking his glove and arm to no effect. "Yes! I am a monster! .. I am one." His tone softened to the reality and acceptance of the statement, his own shame and disappointment coming to light. "For once, I agree with you. I am not a knight in shining armor, a holy saint in any measure. I am a man; a man who's made poor decisions in his life and wishes to rectify them. Someone who doesn't want to see you fall like I did." Orin stared up at him, his moist eyes still filled with shock and fear, and hands trembling as he weakly fought against Cullen's strength. "You need to open your eyes, Orin. Remember where you are and why you're here. You've already lived through this; you've already survived this horror. Don't let the demon make you go through it again. Don't let it win." Cullen watched the mage struggle with his internal strife, new tears slowly edging out of his tightly shut eyes.

"Maya still needs you." Asehan added on. The qunari had silently approached and offered his sympathy. The mention of the elven assassin seemed to get through to the poor mage, Orin opening his eyes and looking up at the towering grey archer. "We still need to save her."

Cullen let out a hiss as hot pain suddenly shot into his hand, forcing him to release his hold on the mage's staff. His resistance had worn off and… he was back in his old armor, as were the others. And when he looked back to Orin, the Dalish elf was wearing his Warden garb and staring him straight in the face. Those golden orbs were still moist, but filled with his familiar, fiery nature.

"We're not done here." Orin said solidly, coming to his feet afterwards. His attention turned to the center of the camp, and as Cullen followed, he watched the Sloth demon morph into existence amongst the carnage and fire, its true form revealed. It was an ugly thing, its upper torso and head bulbous and deformed, its sickly skin stretched and wrapped tight to give it the illusion of mutated veins and spikes.

"Indeed, we are not done." the demon warned, its exhausting voice low and muffled. The glow of magic entered its two lanky hands, gesturing and raising the unconscious Gabbie from the ground to hover in front of it. Cullen and Hordin, who were readying a charge, and Asehan, who was drawing back his bow, halted in their actions. "I do not want to fight. Fighting is so exhausting. It would be better to simply lay down. And-"

Two twisted spears of green, either vines or roots, shot through the demon's hands from the ground at its feet, severing its concentration and canceling its magic. The demon barely made a sound in response and wasn't given time to react. Even before Gabbie hit the ground, several more tendrils of nature broke through the earth and impaled the Sloth demon through the gut, the torso, its legs and arms. Nothrô finally let out a groaning yell of pain, its one visible eye shot wide, as it was lifted into the air and entangled with the strangling vines.

Orin growled as he called upon this forgotten magic, a dark earthly green aura surrounding him, the rage in his eyes far brighter than ever saw before. "I'm done playing as your puppet! Just... **Die!** "

The earth beneath the demon suddenly quaked and ruptured as more vines and roots sprung to life, Gabbie rolling down the increasing slope. Cullen rushed to rescue the dwarf before she got buried by the crumbling rock. He dodged and rolled backwards, pulling her away just as the tears in the ground grew larger and deeper. He then watched as the new collection of plant life twisted together into a stronger, thicker vine and then shove itself down the hidden mouth and throat of the demon. No screams could escape the abomination at it choked and gagged, the vine tearing it open from the inside. And if that wasn't grotesque enough, the earth then shot upwards to create two large pillars on either side and suddenly collided into one another, crushing the demon between their masses. There was a brief pause and slowly black, inky blood began to leak out between the cracks.

In his outrage, Orin summoned forth his powerful fire and engulfed the pillars of earth in a tornado of flames. Cullen had to shield himself and Gabbie from the intense light and heat of the inferno, unable to look upon the blinding display. The twisting magic had created a wind of its own, pulling and twirling everything loose in the area into the air. And just as quickly as the fires raged, it simmered down to scattered remnants. The blinding light faded to leave everything choked in darkness, the ground blackened by the mage's magic, and the once beautiful, tranquil woodland died with the demon that created it. Eventually, the General could see again and took a moment to re-evaluate their whereabouts. The forest had become black and white, the trees stripped bare, with no wind to pass by, and the sky turned an opaque grey.

Orin was panting over where he stood, a few beads of sweat upon his forehead. All his anger had been released, his shoulders slumping down as fatigue and wear caught up to him. Hordin was staring at the destruction left behind by the youth, in both shock and concern, and as he turned to the elf, he dared a chuckle and smile. The Nevarran gave him an approving thumbs up and congratulations.

"Mmm.." Gabbie groaned as she slowly came to. Her deep, brown eyes fluttered open to see the General hovering over her. "Oh? Well _hello_ , sweetie. Aren't you a nice sight to see." She giggled and teased, "You looking to make the commander jealous?"

With a chuckle of his own, "That would require her to be here, wouldn't it?" Gabbie giggled at his jest. Cullen then rose to his feet and offered her a hand up, which she accepted while rubbing her temple.

Orin approached the gathering group, but kept his distance as his eyes remained low. "I'm sorry, everyone… I-" He paused as he struggled to find his words. "I didn't mean to cause anyone harm. I thought since I… I had already made a deal with him, that he wouldn't try anything… I was wrong, okay?! I made a mistake, I'm sorry!"

There was a pause between them, the mage stiff as if he expected a following harsh punishment. Hordin was the first to respond. With a sigh, he walked over and placed a hand on the elf's head, purposefully messing up his hair, "Whatever kid. You've done dumper things." Orin was a bit surprised by the Templar, not even swatting him away as he treated him like a little child, a little brother even. With a warming smile, "Now, what do you say we go save Maya and Kat, huh?"

The young mage stared at the Nevarran for a moment, before a smile crossed his face and he gave him a nod. Hordin was not a very good Templar, Cullen noted, the Chantry would have surely disowned him. He willingly fought beside a blood mage and treated him no different than the others, trusted him maybe. The General couldn't imagine he was always this and the two probably had a rough start in the beginning. And depending on how soon after arriving in Ferelden, Hordin may have had difficulties when he met Kathryn. Something must have happened that changed his view. Still, it was all very strange and unusual, incongruous even. Cullen was far from comfortable around Orin, especially now knowing he was a maleficar, and every instinct, every tact of his faith told him to end the elf's life. He was a danger to everyone around him, intentionally or not, and no matter his reason for going down that dark path, it's always the innocents that suffer. And after witnessing the destructive nature and wrath of his magic, Cullen felt more inclined to follow through with that urge.

"You coming brother?" Hordin called over to him. He and others had made their way over to the pool of water. The liquid had turned black, its still surface like a cursed mirror. "What's with the hesitation? You were all go-getty just a second ago."

Cullen sighed, clearing his thoughts, and moved to join them. "Just... thinking about what lies ahead."

"My guess: Hell. Cause that's all we've really found so far." Hordin considered, rubbing a finger under his nose. "Now we get to see if the demon was "telling the truth" or if this portal in fact leads to our doom."

"I can scout ahead. I'd be more likely to survive anything on the other side and find my way back." Orin suggested, not showing the same reluctance as the others. To say he was adept in the Fade wouldn't be accurate, but he was more familiar with it.

"No. We proceed as a team." Cullen said. He didn't want to take the risk of leaving Orin alone, where he could once more become a thrall to a demon, though his comment apparently gained some strange looks. Orin was bit more puzzled than the rest, obviously not expecting him to say such a thing.

With a snicker, Hordin placed his hands on his hips, "This is one fucked up team. And now you're stuck with us, aren't you?" It was true and it got a weak smile and chuckle from the General.

" _Pff_. Whatever." Orin blew some hair from his eyes and walked forward.

He stepped atop the water surface like it was solid, the ripples created by his steps a nice silvery sheen. When he reached close to the center, he tapped his staff on the surface and released some magical energy that transformed the entire pool into an active portal, the ripples carrying that bright glow outward. And then the mage sank into the silver light and disappeared. Asehan was quick to follow, his desire to find Maya probably driving him forward more than any concern for Orin. Hordin took in a deep breath, steeling himself, and then jumped into the portal like it was still made of water. Gabbie and Cullen entered thereafter. What awaited them on the other side, however, was nowhere near the dread and fear inspiring landscape they were expecting. Tight kept buildings of hardy wood and plaster, typically two stories tall and some seemingly ransacked together, created a maze in this large walled city. The main streets were cobbled flat stone with small grassy nooks and wooden platforms following the many structures. A lively marketplace could be heard in the distance, along with the bay of hounds, the chatter of birds, and the laughter of children. Additionally, they could see the capital's sprawling palace standing proud atop a steep hill. The orange sky was almost crystal clear and the sun, being the most disturbing thing here, was nowhere to be seen.

"Denerim? We're in Denerim?" Hordin asked, scratching his head as he looked around, confused. The people, either idly standing about or roaming as they pleased, paid the newcomers no mind. "This is not what I expected to scare Kat. Unless..." A deep sigh escaped him and irritation growled in his throat. He placed a ready hand on his weapon, "We walked into another trap, didn't we?"

No one responded as they took in their surroundings, not necessarily ruling out the possibility. Asehan soon wandered over to a poster that was hung on the stone wall and tore it down. A smile had crossed his usually flat lips as he made his way back and then gently smacked the paper on Hordin's chest. "It's not Kat."

Hordin arched a brow at the qunari, who began to make his way further down the street, and then took a look at the weathered sheet. It was a Wanted Poster for an elven assassin, whose picture did not due Maya justice, and offering a hefty reward. It got a chuckle from the man. While everyone seemed pleased with the discovery, Cullen, on the other hand, felt a bit disappointed. Not that he had anything against the young elf, he was just hoping to rescue Kathryn. To see her again. It felt like it's been ages since he's seen the real her.

"Wait... This isn't going be like how we met her in the first place, is it?" Hordin questioned, sounding disheartened about it. The only other person who knew what he meant was Asehan, and the qunari grinned. "Maker, please don't make it so." Hordin whimpered in plea.


	6. Ch 6: Courage

The calls and shouts of the guardsmen rippled across the city, carried by the passing wind and dulled by the many homes and buildings. Their footsteps were only audible to those directly below them as they hastily moved across the haphazard rooftops. There was at least half a dozen of them chasing the far quieter and agile rogue. Maya sprinted up one sheer roof and slid down the other side with no difficulty, before leaping across the gap to the next building. Rolling to her feet, she sprinted across the flat surface dodging around the potted plants and boxes kept up here, as well as the crossbow bolts that flew at her, a couple guards taking pot shots from the roof behind her. The elven woman turned the sharp corner out of direct sight, racing across a wobbly wooden platform lying across foundation beams, before flipping down the ladder at the end to the next platform.

While she rushed ahead, the guards forced to slow in their hasty pursuit along those shaky boards else lose balance, Cullen, Hordin, and Gabbie were running down in the streets attempting to keep track of the elusive woman. They would see her pop into sight for only brief moments as she traversed the roofs like a child in an open field, running along walls and steep inclines, jumping over the gaps and alleyways between each building, and quick stepping across wooden beams. They had been trying to catch her for some time, their breaths labored and feet hot from all the running. Countless times they would have lost her, but luckily Orin could keep up as he soared through the sky as a hawk, squawking down at them in directions.

There were guards down here also, responding to the calls of those above and attempting to get ahead of the quick moving assassin to cut her off. Maya was just as cunning as she was swift, however, as she easily evaded the guards looking to entrap her. As she neared the corner of a building overlooking one of the wide, main streets, she grabbed onto the crossing rope after a small leap and swung herself around, twisting her body as she threw herself towards the wall. Her nimble, yet strong fingers caught onto a crossbeam and she then proceeded to climb up the building face, getting a few gasps and comments from some gawking people below. She pulled herself up through a window and quickly stalked through in the opposite direction of the following guards. She silently crawled through the back window and shimmied across a narrow ledge while the guards rushed above her without even realizing it.

The General and company slowed as they neared that building, noticing the guards' confusion and irritation as they struggled to relocate her. Cullen quickly looked to the sky, seeing Orin circling now far behind in the direction they just came. He let out an irritable sigh and rushed to follow, moving down a shadowed alley.

"See what I mean?!" Hordin commented as he and Gabbie followed.

The three moved along the many alleys, taking turns left and right, but maintaining the same general direction. They saw the woman leap across above them at one point, having gained a little bit on her, and the hawk following close behind. She was back on the rooftops and they heard a distant shout from a guard far behind them. They quickly moved up some stone steps to enter another street and crisscrossed over as Maya did the same above, the woman rope balancing across. It was remarkable how effortlessly she made the impossible look! Cullen doubted even Kathryn could keep up with her in this type of environment. A mage chasing after an assassin? Struggling to climb the sheer inclines and building faces, balancing across beams and ropes with hesitation and worry. Just thinking about it made him chuckle.

When at last it looked like they caught up to her, Maya flipped herself up a square chimney and then down into it. Each of them groaned. They staggered towards that particular building, fatigue beginning to kick in. They ducked down another alley way to not catch the attention of the still hunting guard and found the building was nothing more than a shabby, two story shack left to ruin. Boards covered most of the windows and the doors, the plaster walls were damaged with a splatter of tiny holes in them, and junk was left behind by the previous occupants. After taking a moment to catch their breath, the Nevarran commenting he wasn't built for this, Gabbie was hoisted up through a high window. There came a squeak before the dwarf made a thud on the other side.

"I'm okay!"

Cullen and Hordin waited outside as the squat Warden shuffled around beyond their sight. They could hear her making comments though, primarily her sounds of disguise and huffs of struggle. Orin eventually flew down and joined them, a swirl of smoke consuming him as he returned to his normal self. He let out a breath of heavy air as he too was a bit tired from all the chasing. There came a click from the door, followed by a tug and another. Cullen would have helped if he could, but the boards crossing the door made it very difficult for him to assist. Eventually, Gabbie tugged open the stuck door, the bottom scraping noisily across the floor. Hordin stepped forward and kicked through the two lower boards, the wood snapping under his boot. That gave them enough space to duck in. The interior of the building was in no finer shape than it looked outside. Half of the second floor had collapsed inward, creating dangerous spears of broken floor beams, a hole in the roof was visible between the wreckage, destroyed furniture and debris littered the small room they entered, and the air was thick with dust and years old ash. Dark stains could be seen under some of the rubble, long dry and unrecognizable, and the lone stone chimney had chunks torn off it.

"Maya?" Orin called as he looked around, "It's us! Where'd you go?"

"Do you think she knows who we are?" Cullen asked more out of doubt.

"Of course she does! She's my sister!" the elf replied in almost certainty. The General was not convinced.

Examining their surroundings, there was nowhere she could possibly go. There were no other exits aside from the hole in the roof, and he strongly doubted she would just dive down a chimney just to climb back out at the same level. It would accomplish nothing, but waste time. He wondered if she was hiding in the chimney, but when Gabbie looked up there she shook her head with a "nope". They spent a few minutes just digging and searching for clues, looking for recent smudges or footprints. It was faint movement that caught Cullen's eye - a charred tarp laid upon a pile of stone and broken crates. He moved closer to get a better look, cautiously stepping through the debris and spears of wood, and when he lifted the tarp he found a hole torn into a portion of the base wall and floor board, digging down into the dirt. The soil looked recently disturbed. It was big enough for someone of Maya's size to fit through easily, but it would be difficult for everyone else, especially those in heavy armor, to crawl through.

Cullen sighed. He did not like the idea of crawling into the ground, closed in so tight he couldn't defend himself. And who knows what awaits them on the other side. Maya could be waiting for them to poke their heads through just to cut them off. And if they got stuck? Or this was in fact a dead end? How would they be able to get out?

"Orin." He turned back to the squatting elf, "Can you check this out? See if it leads somewhere."

"Yeah, I guess." he mumbled as he approached, though he did take a moment to check the hole before entering.

Another swirl of smoke puffed around the mage, transforming him into a squirrel this time. He then darted down and out of sight. Now came the waiting game. At least it allowed them to rest for a moment. They waited for several minutes, the time dragging as there was nothing to keep them entertained or peek their interest. Gabbie began to draw in the dirt and dust that occupied most of the building, Hordin had sat down and started adjusting his gauntlets and armor, and Cullen passed the time by staring out the holes in the walls to the active city outside. All because they had nothing else to do. Eventually Orin made his return, and everyone jumped up in a manner of relief or anticipation.

"So?" Hordin asked with heightened curiosity, "What'd you find?"

"The tunnel's a waste of time." Orin bluntly stated, getting a groan from Cullen and sigh from the Nevarran. The elf then pointed outward, "Just walk over to the Chantry. That's where it ends up anyways."

The Chantry? Interesting. The group soon left the ruined shack and walked out into the street, making their way towards the Market District where the Chantry also stood. They passed through a gatehouse along the way, the stationed soldiers merely assessing them, and the area opened into a large courtyard sprawling with people and merchant booths. A massive pitched canopy stood in the center of this open ground, casting red and yellow shadows onto those lingering underneath, with flags and banners hanging from the ropes that stretched to smaller, surrounding canopies. It was a gaggle of noise, both human and animal, both civil and aggressive, a well of chaos somehow organized in this one location.

The Chantry sat behind a short stone wall left open to the public, the building itself constructed of fine wood and masonry, parts of it recently rebuilt. Decorative arches and pillars adorned the structure, along with beautiful red-stained glass windows and stoic statues of the Prophetess Andraste. Its grounds were simple with a few patches of flower gardens and the all important Chanter's Board. Two Sisters were reciting parts of the Chant of Light nearby, or what was supposed to be the Chant, and two Templars stood guard at the reinforced double doors.

Hordin chuckled. "I remember Kat telling me about that Sister. Saying she had the best interpretations of the Chant she's ever heard." Another chuckle escaped him, almost turning into tearful laughter, "Bacon of the Maker... Oh, that's great." It got a smirk from the General.

Cullen pushed open the doors, the two Templars remaining silent though it was obvious they were eye balling Orin with weighted suspicion. The elven mage glared back with a subtle huff. The interior of the Chantry was nothing out of the ordinary, some bold red tapestries and running rugs depicting the Blazing Sun, an overabundance of glowing candles, rows of pews for service, and statues telling the story of the rise and fall of Andraste. He spotted two more Templars keeping watch, positioned out of the way yet easily able to respond to any threats, and four acolytes were either tending to the candles and decor or singing Hymns of prayer.

He soon turned to Orin, silently asking him to lead on. The young elf gave him a half-nod and walked forward, moving with a level of discomfort as he continued to eye the staring Templars. The General _almost_ felt sorry for him, sensing that unnerving discontent placed upon the mage, but at the same time felt it justified. He made no comment, of course, as he silently followed the Dalish into the adjoining hall connected to an empty library. It was a small library, not even half the size of what they had in Skyhold, with aged bookcases lining the semi-circular room and a couple squat ones back-to-back in the center. There were only two desks and benches to allow people to sit and read. It was quaint, at least.

"Up there." Orin gestured towards the raised ceiling, the railing of a balcony high above them and nearly hidden by shadow. Additionally, two figures could see seen hiding up there, quietly discussing something. One was twice the size of the other, the second far more lean. Asehan and Maya, perhaps?

"Maker's blessings upon you. How can I be of assistance?" a kind woman asked, the group turning around to see a Priest at their back. She was a pleasant looking lady, her fair skin just beginning to show signs of aging, brown hair braided over one shoulder, and soft eyes a silvery grey.

"Chantry Mother." Cullen greeted with a bow, Hordin doing much the same. "I do believe we have found what we're looking for. Thank you." It was a half-lie at best and it made Cullen feel uncomfortable, even if this Priest wasn't a real person of faith - or person at all.

The woman smiled warmly, a knowing look in her eyes. With a bow of her head, "Of course. May Andraste guide you."

Cullen felt strangely obligated to bow to her again as she made her leave. All due to his upbringing of course, he had no doubt about it, and then turned his attention back up to the duo above. "Asehan?"

There was only a moment's pause. "General."

"Is that Maya with you? Is she aware of what's going on?" He didn't want to have to explain everything to the assassin, mainly because he didn't know how. As far as he could tell, she was a wanted criminal in Denerim who hid from the authorities in the one place they wouldn't think to look. An assassin probably hired out by fitting nobles or the poor and abused. What connection did he have with a person like that?

Maya leaned over the railing before diving off and catching the candle chandelier. She swung on it for only a couple seconds and then bounced off the top of one of the bookcases, landing softly afterwards. She rose to give everyone a playful smile. Asehan soon landed beside her, crashing with a loud _thump_ , and accidently surprising them.

"Hello General." Maya said with a small wave, her young voice high and too _cute_ for her character. It was unfitting! Cullen and the others stared at her in startle, Hordin's jaw dropping as he looked the most dumbfounded.

Gabbie giggled with cheer and stepped forward to take Maya's hands in her own. "You sound so **cute!** Why have I not heard this before, I would have _loved_ to just listen to you simply talk." A wider smile then crossed her colored lips as she noticed something in the elf's braided hair. "Oh! My Flower!" She turned to the qunari, "Big'ems, you bought that just for her? _Aww_ , that's so sweet." Asehan simply nodded, though Maya visibly blushed with a weak laugh. Orin groaned in the background.

Taking a step forward, Cullen addressed the two with a level of suspicion. "Asehan, did you know she was _going_ to be here?"

"Yes." he answered, getting a small glower from the General. To explain himself, "If I had chased, we would not leave."

"What are you talking about? You were the one who caught her last time." Hordin pipped in, crossing his arms in confusion. "Why couldn't we leave if you caught her a second time?"

"If I caught her, we would have spent our remaining time indulging in one an-"

"Whoa whoa! _Whoa!_ Stop!" Hordin quickly interrupted, swinging his arms out to halt him, his face red, "I get it! No need to continue with the details." Orin seconded him. Gabbie pouted slightly in disappointment.

Cullen shook his head, hand pitching his nose thanks to the awkwardness, and then cleared his throat as he regained himself. "Moving on! … Maya, you appear to be fully aware of our situation, which means we must continue forward to find Kathryn. She is the only one left."

With an acknowledging nod, "Yes. Asehan has told me about what has happened. I am ready to leave when you are." Maya glanced beyond them to the acolytes and Mother who were standing in the main chamber. A ping of sadness entered her golden-brown eyes. "I only wish to say goodbye."

Cullen arched a brow at first, but gave her an approving nod afterwards. These were spirits or illusions of people she knew from her past, she was aware, yet for some reason treated them as if they were real. Perhaps she needed to. Perhaps she never got the chance to say goodbye last time. Whatever her reasons, Cullen and the others made their way to the door and waited for her there. He watched as the assassin spoke with the Chantry Mother, her hands held in the older woman's reassuring grasp. Maya's head was tilted down, her shoulders slack, and if he had believed it possible, Cullen might have thought she was crying. The elven woman soon went down to a knee and received a Blessing from the Priest, an act of Andrastian faith. Cullen couldn't help but glance over to Orin then, the Dalish elf standing with his back turned to the event and ready to leave it behind… Twins, they may be, but it was apparent now that the two grew up in two different worlds.

When Maya returned to them, the softness in her eyes had hardened to better fit her cold profession and gave a dutiful nod. Leliana had a similar look, Cullen thought in passing. He then opened the doors, allowing the sunlight to pour in with fervor. It had blinded him momentarily and when it cleared away they were no longer in Denerim. The change did not surprise him, only the fact that now they stood in a completely unrecognizable location. The ground was a mix of rolling stones that had no depth or texture of their own, there were gnarled protrusions and cliff faces that made no sense, shattered rocks floating in the windless air, stems that might be called plants, and the sky was a mix of dull yellow and green with vague shapes that could be described as clouds. Additionally, there was a blur to everything, the objects familiar and yet foreign at the same time.

"Where the hell are we now?!" Hordin asked defensively, once again his hand finding its place and offering reassurance on his blade hilt.

" **This** is the Fade, idiot." Orin answered and then waved his arm out in gesture, "This is what it really looks like, when we're not in someone's dream. It's a place of illusion and mimicry, the spirits creating things in reflection to what they see in our world, but not quite getting it."

"It's creepy." The Templar admitted under his breath.

"Is there a way to find Kathryn from where we are now?" Cullen asked the mage, "Another doorway of some sort?"

"Well yeah, but now we got to find the right one." Orin paused as he thought for a moment, a hand moving to his chin. "... Nothrô said, a demon of Fear was keeping Kat trapped. So we got to find a door that feels.. I don't know, scary? Horrible, I guess."

"I think we're already there." Hordin commented sarcastically, though speaking of his own discomfort as well. "Not to mention, if you believe the damn thing was telling the truth!"

"No! But what else do we have to go off of?!"

"Calm down you two. Fighting will get us nowhere, we must think of Kat." Maya said while quickly stepping between the two, both easing off. "We need to focus on our destination. If we are to face our fears, we must be prepared."

Cullen nodded. "Agreed. If a demon has managed to entrap Kathryn then it will be the most powerful one yet, and we've already failed once. We can't afford to fail again… If the Fade recreates what it sees in our world, our dreams, then we first need to figure out what frightens Kathryn. That will give us a path, am I correct?" His question was pointed at Orin, who sighed regretfully with a shrug. He wasn't sure and that seemed to trouble him.

"Soo… What is Kat afraid of?" Hordin asked oddly. There came no ready response as everyone drew blanks in their mind. Cullen stared at each of them as they stood silent, their own eyes either aimed at the ground or an obstacle in the area. After a pause, Hordin was of course the first to speak up. "Shit! This is impossible. I mean, come on! Is she even afraid of anything?! Darkspawn, demons… politicians don't even phase her. For the Maker's sake, she's even taken down High Dragons!"

"And we saw how easily she took out those Templars. They don't pose a problem anymore." Orin interjected with pride and even a little bit of jealousy.

"The Commander has always held fast, no matter the challenge." Maya said with a small level of awe and inspiration. "She tells us we mustn't waver, else let our own fears consume us and lead to ruin… If she fears anything, she keeps it well hidden. We must think of subtle things, hints that may have portrayed deep concern on her part."

Another pause took them, a couple of them letting out a hum of thought. It was Gabbie who seemed the most concerned and uneasy now, as the stout woman visibly glanced away from the party and bit on her lower lip. Cullen quickly turned his stern gaze to her, "Gabbie."

The dusky dwarf glanced to him and the others, noticing she had garnered their attention and then let out a sigh. "I… _might_ know something." She was hesitant, for some reason, tapping her pointing fingers together in uncertainty. She took in a deep breath to strengthen her resolve. "Okay. M'lady had _asked_ me not to say a word, but since she's in trouble… I remember, she told me one time she nearly _died_ while trying to escape the Circle when she was little." The statement got a startle out of everyone, particularly Cullen. Not once did he ever think she would have tried to flee the Circle. "She, fell into the water and she didn't know how to swim. Had she not been rescued by some guy named Gregory, or Graggy or -"

"Gregoir?" Cullen asked with just as much surprise as confusion.

"Yes! That's the one!" Gabbie applauded with cheer.

Orin huffed. "Good thing she had a fellow mage there to help her."

"Try Knight-Commander." Cullen corrected, the mage nearly blanching as he stared at him in disbelief. The General's attention returned to the main topic. "Alright. So, she's afraid of drowning then? It'd be hard to forget an incident like that, especially when you're young. I suppose we look for a body of water and hope to find a doorway in it?"

"It will not suffice." Came a voice of a familiar stranger, but there was no body to it. Everyone cautiously placed their hands upon their weapons as they sought out the source. Within a few seconds, a glow of light manifested in the air and the spectral spirit calmly stepped out of that created portal towards the group. It was Valor, it survived the conflict with the Pride demon. "I commend you mortals, you have passed expectations. Most outsiders are easily swayed by this world, yet you have found your way. You have my respect."

Orin scoffed. " _Respect_. And I'm sure you're not here to sway us too?" It was apparent the spirit made him uneasy, the elf gripping his staff tighter, probably due to his recent interaction with another denizen, Cullen suspected. He was on the defensive.

Valor turned to the mage with a minor head shake. "If you are accusing me as you did the General, then know that I will not lay down my weapons to prove a point. I would not hesitant to strike you down." There was tension in the following pause, everyone eyeing the spirit with a more heated caution than before. Continuing, "You believe you know the secrets of the Fade, but in fact know very little. It was your arrogant blindness that led you to make a deal with a demon and ultimately the death of your clan, mortal. Do not forget that." The subtle insult sent a visible shudder down Orin's spine, the elf backing up in shame, though he continued to glare and hiss at the spirit as he bit back on his tongue. Valor was quick to turn his attention elsewhere, the warrior looking to Cullen next. "General. You have found the source of the Commander's fear, but simply looking for it will end in failure. You must project yourself to her side and willingly succumb to the nightmare created. When you are ready I will guide you there, but know, you will be taking this journey alone."

A lump formed in Cullen's throat at the thought, slight hesitation and worry beginning to form. Hordin was not fond of the idea either, quickly moving to his side. "Like hell he is! We're all going, end of story!"

"No. You will remain here mortal, with the rest of your companions. I cannot risk you falling under the sway of the demon and negate all the General has done to free you. We would have to start anew and by then, the mage that had originally trapped you here would be all the more powerful."

Cullen rose his arm in front of Hordin to cease his complaint. "I will go." The Nevarran began to protest, but the General gave him a stern look. "I'm going!" His mind was made up. Cullen stepped up to the spirit, "We've wasted enough time, do what you must."

Valor merely nodded to the man and then placed a hand on his chest. There would be no portal this time, he soon realized. Cullen felt energy suddenly transfer into his body, an uncomfortable warmth that quickly turned into cold emptiness. His body began to glow and change into living light, much like the spirit itself, and as that light grew his senses were overcome by it. The words from the others were muffled to silence, his sense of touch and taste fading with his material body, and his sight blinded by the whiteness that claimed him. It felt as if he was drifting into unconsciousness, but left fully aware. He soon stood in a blank realm, a whole lot of nothing in vast emptiness, but as he tried to focus onto the person he hoped to save, onto the woman who recaptured his heart, memories both old and new flew into creation. Flashes of images and sounds and emotions struck him, but they were his own. They got him nowhere, he needed to… put himself in her shoes.

The misty splash of frigid water and the numbing cold wind woke Cullen from his experience. Opening his eyes, he found himself in the one place he never thought to visit again: the Ferelden Circle. It was dark, the late night bathing the heavy stone in thick shadows and blue hues, the corridor long and foreboding. The musk of mildew and decaying fish was more horrid than he remembered. Just behind him, two sets of stairs curved upwards to the main entrance above, he knew, and the docks laid just ahead where he could hear the water lapping on the foundation and the gentle creak of wood. In addition to the gurgle of breathless screams and floundering panic.

 _Kathryn!_

Cullen took off in a sprint, entering the moonless night that choked everything in daunting darkness, the tower looming overhead in displeasure. Turning the corner, slipping and catching himself on the wet stone, he caught sight of an armored individual standing at the edge of a dock and the frantic splashes of another in the water. A black smoke lingered in the crevasses of the Templar's armor and Cullen could hear him chuckling. Without hesitation, the General ran straight for the demon, his heavy footsteps, the draw of his blade, and his yell catching the creature's attention. It spun in surprise, the edge of Cullen's sword slicing across its face and sending it reeling back in pain, letting loose an ear-piercing screech that dug straight into the brain.

Cullen did not stop, jumping off the dock and diving into the water after the woman who sank moments before his arrival. The water felt like painful knives stabbing into him, the lack of light instantly submerging him in opaque darkness. Kathryn was nowhere to be seen, her body not where it should have been. Instead, he swam in the endless pool of misery and hit an invisible wall. His cheek found the glass first, followed quickly by his hands, and as he observed his surroundings he found he was trapped in a glass box. He mentally cursed and started to bang on the glass, but the water wasn't making it any easier. And then… A horrid visage sprung from the darkness right before his eyes, the sudden fright causing him to jump back. His heart pounded and he lost a bubble of air. The demon chuckled with satisfaction on the other side of the glass.

Cullen glared at the monstrosity. Barbed tendrils hung from its head like a deceased octopus on the upper portion of its face, six spider-like legs hooked outward from its back threatening to entrap anyone within reach, and its pale, sickly body was sunken in like a corpse, its tatters of cloth making it appear like a monster of the deep in the water. The only "nice" thing about it was the recent wound that crossed its face. It slithered through the lake with unsettling ease and speed, not once letting the General escape its sight. It was assessing him, as if trying to find any blind spots or weak points to its prisoner. Cullen felt thankful for the barrier to a degree. Another chuckle escaped it as the demon stared at the man, placing a bony hand against the glass.

"You'll never save her." It said, followed by the _crack!_ and _snap!_ of glass. A web of cracks and splinters slowly, very slowly, crawled outward from its palm. It began to create a symbol, a broken version of the Grey Warden's icon. "You are both _mine_."

 _Like hell we are!_ Cullen moved back against the opposing wall and with all his strength kicked off it and slammed into the cracking window. He heard the gasp from the abomination as the glass shattered, the sharp pieces drifting outward in all directions. He was free and the demon hissed as it quickly disappeared in the black. Cullen glared in its general direction, before out in all directions. He glanced upwards, he was deeper than previous, no doubt thanks to the demon trying to drag him further down. Everything around him was pitch darkness, but in the eerie calm he caught the flicker of movement. It could be a trap. It could be Kathryn... He had to go, he couldn't risk not to.

Cullen swam closer and closer, the movement he saw beginning to take a humanoid form. It _was_ Kathryn, but she was no longer moving. Her body was limp in the water, drifting motionlessly. Another ping of fear shook him as he sped forward. He grabbed her thin wrist and pulled her into his arms. Her skin was pale, almost milky white with a blue tint, and her lips a shade of purple. He stared at her in stricken horror, only afterwards thinking of dragging her to the surface. In his movement, her body suddenly began to melt in his hands. She burned away like acid was poured all over her, that haunting image turning into flakes of ash as he let her go in haste. Another gasp of air lost. She was gone in seconds, but he couldn't shake the experience. His hands were trembling.

Cullen then clamped those same trembling hands into strong fists, realizing the demon had played him again. He could feel its presence hiding in the looming shadows, its spine-chilling laugh echoing in the vastness. A black, smoky tendril suddenly shot out from that darkness, whipping right past him as he barely dodged the attack. It was a distraction however, as another twisted out and caught him along his backside. It stung and sizzled his skin like open flame. It cost another breath of air. Two more came at him, the first striking a leg and the second across his upper chest. He was defenseless and without his weapon, and with each strike he lost another bubble. He had to get out, else drown! In a burst of energy and desperation, he headed for the surface as quick as he could. There was just barely enough light to go by, giving him that hope of escape, growing brighter as he drew closer. And colder.

An ice sheet of pale blue blocked him in, collapsing his hope. Another barrier! Another trap! The choke in his lungs was beginning to burn him from the inside. He pushed and punched the solid form to no avail. A small string of blood was cut from his knuckle due to his effort. Another wave of fear was taking hold, the lack of air strangling him. His felt that familiar sway of losing consciousness, his mind and vision beginning to blur, and in his struggles, he looked upon his reflection. It wasn't his own however. It was Valor. The spirit and embodiment of courage. Cullen stared at that spectral visage mimicking him, silent whispers telling him to stay strong, reminding him where he was and why he was here.

Maker he hated this place… He closed his eyes, clearing his mind, calming his heart. The pressure of the water began to lessen, the faint light provided through the ice sheet brightening, the numbing cold no longer crippling him with figurative needles, and he took in a breath. Air; sweet beautiful air. He opened his eyes, now crouched on top of the ice-covered lake. A wind swept in, blowing snow in waves and creating a hazy atmosphere, clouds crowded the sky above, a chalk grey and ever moving, and in that white backdrop the demon morphed into existence, like a black stain on crisp paper. Cullen stood and drew his sword and shield, the two weapons materialized back in place by his will. The demon hissed and let out an agonizing cry, hovering at least a foot in the air, and began to call upon its sinister power. Two smoky orbs sizzled in its palms.

"You have not won…" It snarled with disdain. Cullen merely glared and began his approach. "You will learn the meaning of fear!"

The ice began to crack and shake, the semi-slick surface becoming more difficult to traverse as Cullen charged across it towards the demon. Pillars of ice suddenly shot out from the deep crevasses attempting to stab and entrap the man, but Cullen was quick on his feet. He dodged and sidestepped, jumping to the sides or forward. He brought his shield to bear against many of the frozen spikes, rolling with the hits that he blocked. He could feel the sharp cold radiating off the pillars, their sheer presence enough to numb his skin, and each flake that was stripped from them became painful razors that stung like paper cuts.

A pillar shot from a crack directly ahead of him, the spearhead nearly taking his head as he sidestepped away and gaining a scrape instead. A second followed close behind, coming from an angle and hitting his shield. He rolled with the hit, feeling the pressure against his shoulder, and lunged out front, avoiding a third strike simultaneously. The last two pillars collided and rained down puncturing needles. He held his shield overhead, hearing the ice shatter briefly on the metal surface before he slipped away. More pillars rose from the frozen surface, never ending and never stalling. Cullen felt the ground shift under his foot and instinctively leapt back, avoiding a line of spears that would have gutted him. He dove to the side as another ice peak rose to impale him and rolled along the cold surface as two more followed in his wake.

Cullen was back on his feet in an instant, but the arcane blast caught him by surprise. The dark orb smashed against his shoulder, throwing him off balance and nearly knocking his arm out of socket. He growled and rolled with it, slipping back along the ice, but he regained his footing. He could only glare at the mage for a second, before his attention was stolen as he had to dodge another pillar of ice. At this point, having dodged so many, there was a maze of sharp protrusions behind him and it was difficult to see where he was going. He had lost sight of the demon, though he could still feel its haunting presence, and now Cullen could spot three conjured images of magi amongst the ice formations, no doubt summoned by the abomination, their materialized forms tattered ghosts of their former selves.

They were all dead, or at least were shown as such. One had been incorrectly beheaded, the cut jagged and occasionally squirting blood, another had a sword impaled through their torso, continuous dripping blood from the wound and mouth, and the third trailed a slimy knot of intestines behind them. Cullen felt sick just looking at them, his gut turning, but he steeled himself and remained focused. He continued to avoid the still rising ice pillars, though he had noticed they weren't arriving as rapidly as before, and additionally used them as cover from the mages that launched magic attacks at him. The quick moving and quick thinking General ducked behind a wall of formed pillars, slid across the icy floor and spun out on one of the mage's flanks. The headless body hardly had the time to even face him, before Cullen severed it in two with his blade. The two halves toppled to the ground in a messy pile, but Cullen had to spin around to block another bolt.

The magic bounced off his shield and he had to dive behind cover as both of the mages focused on him. They bombarded the ice protecting him, the forms cracking and causing splinters to shoot out. One of the mages conjured fire in its hands and launched it forward, the blaze exploding in a large ball that consumed everything in the area. The ice shattered and melted, leaving behind only a dense fog. To their surprise, however, Cullen had left that barrier long before its collapse and leapt over a short wall of pillars the hid him from their view. His sword cut down the closest face, splitting it wide open in a grisly display, and then he spun around its limp body to snap the second's neck with his shield. Both mages fell to the ground, returning to corpses.

The sound of clapping spun Cullen around on his heels. He had never dropped his defenses, but his eyes widened at the sight of Knight-Commander Meredith. The older, blonde woman held a proud smirk on her face and her eyes were hungry with the crimson energy of red lyrium. He glanced to her wicked weapon, that accursed blade that drove her to insanity and later her doom. If only he had seen the signs sooner, he once told himself. If only he could have saved her and stopped her from igniting the rebellion in Kirkwall.

"Well done, Knight-Captain. You have become invaluable in removing these abominations." The false woman snarled, though it was very true to her character. "But we're not done yet. I have apprehended another, a very powerful mage, and you will do the Maker's bidding." She pointed at him with a sense of pride and command. "Kill this maleficar so that we may finally go home."

Cullen glared at the Knight-Commander, a ping of guilt and even remorse settling in his gut as he could easily recall his role while under her command. He didn't believe what was happening, of course, this was another ploy by the demon. Something to distract him or lure him into horrid memories of his past. Cullen didn't even bother to answer the armored woman as he made his approach. His steps were purposefully and eyes fixated. He didn't even look over to see who she was accusing. Meredith had noticed it too. In a swift motion, he dashed at her and swung his blade, but she managed to bring her's front and blocked. The two weapons clanked against one another, but Cullen was far faster. He drove his long sword through her gut as she rose her greatsword up high. He heard a gasp and the thud of wood. He had blinked and, in that instant, he now stood with the mage impaled on his blade and Meredith safely behind him.

"Excellent work, Knight-Captain." she commended. "I couldn't have asked for a better executioner."

Cullen stared horrified at the pale mage before him. Kathryn gagged weakly as a slow spit of blood rolled out her mouth, her shocked eyes quickly losing their color and spirit, her trembling hands upon the blade that remained in her stomach. The strength left her body and Cullen fell with her to his knees. He caught her in one arm, praying to the Maker that she wasn't real.

 _Please! Maker! Let this be another lie!_

He wanted to look away, but fear kept his eyes firmly upon her. He wanted to turn from this conjured murder, but fear told him it was true. It told him, he killed her. He killed all of them. His blade was stained with the blood of so many innocents. He was a murderer. A madman! A corrupt Templar who enjoyed his work.

"Come. We have more work to do back at the Circle." Meredith said in the background, though Cullen hardly heard her.

His attention remained on Kathryn, especially when the woman rose a bloody hand to his cheek. "You…" she began, a gurgle of blood hindering her speech. That sound twisted his gut beyond possibility. A spark of fire managed to emerge in her eyes, her thin brows frowned in a stern glare. "You're not… a… murder..er."

Cullen stared at her in mixed confusion. His eyes threatened tears, turning red and warm from his internal strife, his heart ached with both fear and guilt, and his mind was a mesh of fog. He couldn't think straight, but her words struck him. "I know you" she had told him, but if she knew the truth of his cruel past…

Meredith hissed a curse. In a distasteful whisper, "Insolent wrench. Stay out of this."

Cullen foiled his own brow, barely catching the Knight-Commander's comment. Kathryn gave him a slow, weak nod, though he wasn't sure if it was a nod or just her struggling to keep her head up. The fire had faded in her eyes, that warmth and spirit he loved so dearly. He clung on to her as she began to sway.

"Fight... it." she whispered, pushing back another gag of blood. "We must… fight, it."

".. We?" Cullen whispered back.

The woman fell back from him and, for some reason, he let her go. She fell gently on the cold ice, a blank expression on her youthful face and blood staining her… Circle robes? She was wearing the light blue robes of an apprentice. Her hair was cut to her shoulders and braided along her bangs. Cullen rolled her face slightly to the side, she was missing her scars. And then he lifted her left hand, all fingers were accounted for. The realization hit him like a stone brick and all that strife, all the fog, vanished along with her body. Cullen's eyes rose to his blade stuck in the ice, that steel weapon that both took lives and saved them.

"Knight-Captain." Meredith spoke sharply. "Do not waver from your duty. You have taken an oath."

Cullen wrapped his hand around the hilt tightly and not once looked back to the demon. "Yes, I have… And I plan on fulfilling it."

He heard the creature hiss behind him, the shift of the armor signaling its defensive stance. But he did not rise to slay it, as it may have believed he would, instead Cullen shoved his sword deeper into the ice. A giant tear ripped through the sheet and the demon cried in protest. Everything shattered into pieces; the ice, the pillars, the sky. Cullen felt that familiar weightlessness as he plummeted into darkness, the curses of the demon falling far behind. He closed his eyes and felt outward for that sliver of courage and hope lost in the wastes of fear. He caught its faint sense, and as he focused, a wash of warmth and brightness fell upon him. When he opened his eyes, an orb of black liquid hovered before him, its size relative to his own, and at its core he could sense her presence.

Without hesitation, Cullen reached a hand into that concealed, frigid orb that bit every inch of his arm. It bubbled and shifted. Tendrils began to morph out of the round object, each one wrapping a cold loop around him in attempts to drag him in. He fought against it, against its strength and burn, grabbing onto the one thing trapped inside. He pulled with all his might, all his heart, as more tendrils shot out at him, hooking around his legs and even his face. He struggled but would not give in. One foot stepped back, followed by another. He reached his other arm in and grabbed hold of her hand, those usually gentle fingers holding onto him just as tightly. With a growl and roar of determination, he yanked Kathryn out of that well of terror and they both fell to the ground. They landed in the grassy plains of the Bannorn, the tall golden grass and wild flowers dancing in a lovely spring wind. They had escaped the nightmare.

Cullen rolled Kathryn off him and on her side when she began to cough and gag, retching up water from her drowning experience. Her skin was still pale and wet, her dark hair clinging to her face and neck. She wheezed as air finally entered her lungs, inhaling it like she would never be able to again, and then she slowly rolled onto her back, those emerald orbs opening. Cullen cupped her cheek to support her, to comfort her, his thumb wiping away some hair from her eyes and then gently caressing the scars upon her cheekbone.

"You…" Kathryn smiled with a heavy, relieved breath, "found me."

"Yes, I did." Cullen answered softly, relief and a smile crossing his face too.

Kathryn's eyes began to examine him, her brow foiling lightly and smile fading as she found all the cuts and burns that marked his body. From fighting demons, mages, and the Fade itself, it was a wonder he was still intact. "You're injured… Oh Cullen, I'm so sorry." She suddenly apologized, a burst of energy emerging as worry took hold. "I shouldn't have done this to you. You've suffered enough. I-I wasn't thinking when I gave-"

Cullen didn't care. He shushed her with a kiss, pressing his lips firmly against hers. He still had his courage, apparently, and when she didn't recoil away or refuse him, he lingered there for a moment longer. Their lips slowly broke away, both of them hesitant and taking in a breath of air. He could still taste her sweetness and moisture. They locked eyes when he hovered over her just a few inches, hearing her deep breaths. He could see her surprise, her sympathy, and also a sense of pleasure.

With a daring expression, "I would endure it all again, if it meant saving you."

Kathryn let out a gasp and airy laugh, a blush coloring her cheeks. "My knight in shining armor, huh?" she teased playfully.

Cullen chuckled. "I had explained earlier that I was no such thing, but… maybe, for you, I'll try to be." Kathryn gave him a sweet, almost shy, smile. He stared down at her for a moment longer, his eyes drifting to her lips as he wished to capture them again, but he pulled away. "We, uh.. best get going. Else the others might start panicking."

"The others?" she questioned as she took his offered hand and rose to her feet. "You sought them out too?"

"You sound surprised."

"I must say I am. And impressed as well." she said with a growing smirk. "I suppose I chose the right person to awaken."

" _Really?_ You sure it wasn't because I was the only one in arm's reach?"

She laughed at his jab. "Positive."

Kathryn squeezed his hand, which warmed his smile, and then stepped back. His hand fell to his side after she let go, and he watched as she closed her eyes and began to focus. He felt the wind pick up, its invisible form swirling around them briefly, and then twirling outward in a wide circle. In a sudden flash, Hordin, Gabbie, Orin, Asehan, Maya, and, surprisingly, Kyle popped into existence.

"-you mother-fuc- ?!" Hordin stopped mid-sentence when he realized he had been teleported and the subject of his wrath, more likely the spirit, was gone. He quickly spun around to take in the new surroundings, his hand tight on his sword hilt. He looked as if he was already moving to use it prior to his arrival anyway. "Wha? Kat! Brother!" He cheered, a wide smile beaming.

"M'lady!" Gabbie came out of nowhere and jumped at Kathryn with open arms. The woman nearly toppled over as she struggled to keep her balance when the dwarf wrapped her arms around her neck, spinning her in a hug. " _You're alive!_ I was so scared I'd never see you again! How would I live with myself if something ever happened to you?! Everything would fall to ruin!" Gabbie practically cried in her ear, Kathryn bent over to her level.

"I'm okay, Gabbie." Kathryn said with a soft sigh, patting her back in reassurance. "I'm not about to leave you alone with my men. The temptation would be too much for you."

A wet giggle escaped the dwarf, even Cullen had to hold back a chuckle, and Gabbie slowly released the headlock. "Thank you." she sniffled, clearing tears from her eyes.

Kathryn stood back up and turned to the rest of her men. All of them were happy to see her, if not also relieved. Kyle, however, kept his distance and kept his eyes low. He still looked to be in shock, with a sprinkle of self-pity and guilt in there too. Cullen didn't know how or why he was here, given last he knew the Sergeant was still clutched in the claws of a Pride Demon. Kathryn must have pulled him out of his nightmare, snatched him right from the demon's realm. Should they expect the demon to make an appearance then? It's humiliation sending it on a rampage to get back what was rightfully its? Cullen almost dared it to. As much as he hated the weak excuse of a Warden, he wasn't cruel enough to leave him in the hands of a demon. He wouldn't wish that fate on anyone.

"Can we get out of here already?" Orin asked impatiently.

"Agreed. But before we go, "What happens in the Fade, stays in the Fade", okay?" Hordin said, his hand raised to mimic taking an oath. "I don't want to hear another **word** about this damn place."

Both Cullen and Asehan glared back in Kyle's general direction, but neither said anything. The Sergeant must have felt their daggers, as he slumped more into himself. Kathryn gave everyone a nod, her expression far more serious now. "Very well, then listen up. The maleficar will be waiting for us the instant we come to, but seeing how neither of the mabari are with us..." Her eyes glanced over to Cullen at the mention of the two dogs, "They will distract him long enough for us to break free, but it will be a brief window."

"Got it. Go in fast and go in hard." Hordin snickered, pounding a fist in his palm. It got a giggle from Gabbie, of course.

"We are ready." Asehan added on, Maya and Orin nodding.

Kathryn stepped closer to the center of the group, bringing her hands before her and channeling energy between them. A white orb of light pulsed outward, passing over everyone's body like an awakening wind, and in that blinding light Cullen felt all the trials of the Fade leave him and the weight of the real world grab him. He opened his eyes to capture the bloody battlefield drenched by a raging storm, the landscape bathed in deep shadows and eerie green, the bodies of Red Templars scattered around him and the others, and finding he was still bound in tendrils of blood conjured by the maleficar. He lifted his head to glare at that corrupted mage, the two mabari war hounds charging the body covered in tattered robes of black, grey, and crimson. The dogs were just now leaving the rock formations meters away, signifying the length of time spent in the Fade. What felt like hours was mere seconds in the real world. A torturous experience.

Cullen called upon his inner strength and pulled on his red chains, fighting against their restraint and magical power. The flare of blue light swept across the battlefield, a sigil appearing below each of the Wardens and the General, whose attention immediately was cast to Kathryn as she was the one responsible. And with that dispelling sigil, Cullen broke free of the blood mage's entrapment. He heard Hordin let out a roar in the background, and the two tore across the grassy field towards the battling mage and war hounds. The maleficar surrounded himself in an aura of crimson mist that protected him from his attackers, Cul and Pup snarling through the blinding and crippling effect. He hexed the two hounds moments before their speedy arrival, throwing off their aim and disorienting them. Pup let out a heart wrenching whine as he nearly toppled over from a sudden wash of draining magic and Cul was caught mid-lunge in paralyzation.

The two mabari could do no more versus the powerful blood mage, but they bought the time needed. Cullen closed within moments, his sword and shield looking forward to colliding with the enemy, and he could hear Hordin thundering close behind him. The mage turned his attention immediately to the new threat, the hollow of a man which might as well been a corpse given his sunken face, grayish skin, and thin mop of hair, and he rose an almost skeletal hand. The General felt the damning magic wail against his mind, the strangling throbs and whispers aiming to break his will. He easily broke the spell, shattering its grasp and spitting it out. No expression crossed the maleficar's grim face as he worked up another.

An arrow shot right over Cullen's shoulder and flew through the caster's hand, sending it recoiling back and snapping the wrist attached to it. Another arrow pierced an ankle, pinning the mage to the ground, followed by a second doing the same thing on the other leg. A blue sigil appeared below his feet, the Warden-Commander's magic cancelling the protective aura. There was no escape for him now. Cullen's longsword plunged all the way to the hilt into his torso, stabbing through his heart if he had one. The mage let out an airy gasp as best, his discolored eyes wide in growing shock and horror. Additionally, the momentum from the General's charge broke the mage free of his entrapment, a duo of loud _snaps!_ coming from either the arrows or his ankles, it was difficult to tell. Cullen bashed his shield against the chest and yanked his sword out. The maleficar staggered only two steps before Hordin came down with his greatsword.

The mighty weapon cleaved the blood mage in two, right down the center, head to toe, with only the whoosh of the blade and crunch of bone to make any sound. Cullen watched the two halves fall, not an ounce of blood between them, and that's what troubled him the most. They had been fighting a corpse, reanimated time and time again in an unrelenting hunt for some accursed Icon. A clap of thunder shattered the wash of silent relief, along with the too-close-for-comfort bolt of lightning that struck a tree. Both he and Hordin, and the two freed hounds, ducked in reaction.

"He's dead Kat!" Hordin called out, mistaking her as the culprit, "You can knock it off now!"

"That's not me!" she yelled back through the angry storm. It was only getting worse. Gabbie cried something out, but Cullen couldn't hear her over the howling winds. "This way!"

Kathryn began running towards the rocky outcropping, everyone quickly following suit. They traversed only the first few rocks, trying to keep low to the ground as the sky lit up with electric display. It was becoming difficult to see, the pounding rain slapping them from different angles, washing down into their eyes and drowning the land in heavy curtains. They had to scream at each other now, the roar in the grasping winds just as powerful as the earth trembling thunder above. Tattered leaves and twigs smacked against them. Branches were snapped from their trees. And then a bombardment of hail crashed down from the twisting clouds.

 _Out of one dangerous situation and into another._

Cullen felt someone grab his arm and tug him forcible to the side. It was Kathryn and had she not dragged him along, he would have missed the entrance to their escape. The cave welcomed them with open arms, immediately relieving the group of the assault outside, and once under its protection they slowed to a stop, dripping wet, and sighed collectively. Pup and Cul shook themselves of the clinging water, neither of their owners bothering to shield themselves, and proceeded further into the rocky chamber. It opened up relatively quickly, a few strides in around a turn, and the faint glow of a low fire pit highlighted the camp of the Red Templars. Their tapestry was loosely hung on the wall, make-shift benches rounded the fire, and a side tunnel traveled deeper in. The group cautiously made their way forward, expecting more trouble and combat awaiting them, but luckily, they found none.

The passage led them to the main chamber, an impressive and massive room with a thick boulder holding up the vaulted ceiling, drops of rain water sprinkling down from the many chandeliers of roots and cracks of earth. There was even a spring that gently bubbled on an elevated rock sheet, creating a small, multi-step waterfall and pool that disappeared behind a wall. It was rather captivating, the moisture in the air creating an alluring mist that reflected a rainbow of colors against their light sources. Sadly, the Red Templars had made their claim here. Bold red tents occupied roughly half of the area, with a few more fire pits ready for use, crude wooden furniture and weapon racks, and even a half-ass forge was found amongst the empty shelter. It was quite obvious they had been here for some time, hiding out and resorting to banditry, judging by the supplies they had stored. To no surprise, the group found chests filled with red lyrium, some of the storage containers consumed by the corruptive crystal, and they wasted no time in destroying them.

"Alright. It looks like we're going to be stuck here for a little bit." Kathryn spoke up, catching everyone's attention from their varied locations. "As we wait, I recommend everyone strip down to the bare minimum and hang your clothes over the fires. The last thing we need is anyone getting sick from the rain."

Cullen didn't hear any complaints, in fact, almost everyone sounded relieved and soon the sounds of unclipping armor and leather straps filled the room. He did hesitate though, feeling a bit uncomfortable. He completely understood the reasons and knew it was for the best in the long run, but… as his eyes traveled over to Kathryn, watching the woman slip off her long leather guards and greaves, followed by her silverite pauldrons, and then lift her breastplate over her head… Cullen found himself quite distracted by the woman, the orange glow of the fire dancing beautifully off her damp skin and glistening hair, and it was only when Hordin entered his view did he manage to break free. The tall Nevarran was already half-naked, wearing only his pants, and he swung an arm over Kathryn's shoulder in a very friendly manner. Again, Cullen felt the burn of jealousy.

"Look what I found." Hordin said cheerfully, dangling a jug of alcohol before the woman. His face was already lit up with excitement. "What do you say to a little celebration, huh? To removing another Blight against humanity and kicking ass? And don't worry, there's plenty to go around so everyone can come."

Kathryn gave him a playful grin and raised brow. She parted her lips to respond, but in that moment, she caught sight of the General and paused. Cullen blinked away his sour expression and turned to leave, trying to make it look like he hadn't noticed. It was a poor attempt at best, but what did it matter? As he walked off, he heard Kathryn say something to Hordin and the man laughed. They should go enjoy their celebration, they deserved it. He was just… he needed to be elsewhere for a moment. He soon found himself standing by the central boulder, looking up one of its smoothed sides. A platter of dark mosses, ranging from burnt orange and deep green, decorated much of the rocky pillar and several narrow streams twinkled down its face. It held a sense of stability and tranquility to it. Pup whined quietly beside him, cocking his head to the side in confusion or curiosity, but his attention didn't stay long. He bounced off with excitement, letting out a happy _boff_. He heard Cul huff happily in response, and he turned around to see Kathryn approaching while the two dogs wrestled.

She still had her striped tabard on, not stripping down to Hordin's level - Thank the Maker. "Cullen? Is everything okay?" she asked with a level of sweet concern.

He straightened out of reflex. "Yes, I'm fine." His voice felt dry, his hand fidgeting on the ball of his sword hilt, and he could tell she wasn't convinced. She could see his unease just as well as he felt it. With a reluctant sigh, "You should… go enjoy the company of the others. I heard they, uh, found some ale? .. I'll keep watch over here, make sure nothing else sneaks up on us."

Kathryn crossed her arms defiantly, despite her smile. She still wasn't buying his accuse. "And what makes you think something's going to sneak up on us? Way out here in the wilderness, in the middle of a storm?"

"Let's just say, in the few days I've been traveling with you, trouble never seems to be far behind. I've come to expect it around every corner." He tried not to chuckle at his statement. How easily he could recall the amount of trouble that seemed to follow him around, nonetheless the woman before him.

"No time to relax then? Everyone deserves a break now and then, even you. Especially you." She uncrossed her arms and took a step closer. "You should join us. You're a part of this team now and are no less deserving of our little celebration... You've been through hell and high water long before our arrival, and I worry that you haven't _allowed_ yourself to let your guard down, even in South Reach. But you don't need to remain vigilant around us, Cullen."

With a smirk and weak chuckle, "Are you forgetting I was once a Templar? Vigilance is something I cannot easily surrender. Yes, there was a long period of time in which I refused to, but I'm not as, withdrawn, as I once was." The smirk fell from his face and his eyes dared to glance over at the drinking party. Specifically, Hordin.

"But that's not the issue, is it?"

Cullen turned back to her, a more solemn look on his face. "No, it's not."

Kathryn evaluated him for but a moment, her eyes flickering across his face. And then that knowing smile crossed her lips. "I see. You're worried about me and Hordin. You don't want to come between us." She hit it right on the nose, Cullen visibly shifting his weight uneasily. He was about to say something, but she rose a hand to silence him. "Don't apologize or try to make reason of the situation. Allow me to personally state that there is nothing romantic going on between the two of us. We're just friends… And even if there were any feelings, Hordin has one true love and he will never let her go. There can be no other." She was speaking of Mareece of course, Hordin's wife. Not even death could break his love and oath to her. It was both sweet and sad at the same time.

"I… I see. Then if, you.. If you're-" Cullen paused as he tried to think of the next words to say, brushing a hand through his hair in awkwardness. How was he supposed to ask her? Should he even in the first place? He felt his cheeks flush up in both embarrassment and frustration. Her smile wasn't helping either. Maker! Why was this so hard?!

With a playful hum, "So what happened to that boldness you showed me earlier? Right after you saved me?"

A brighter blush warmed his face. "I, uh, well… It was.. a…"

His words teetered off as she took a step closer and picked up his hand - which he had locked around the ball of his hilt. He watched as she massaged the back of his hand, relieving it of tension, before gently sliding her fingers between his own. He couldn't help but close his hand around hers, interlocking them in a caring embrace. He looked back up to her, gazing into those alluring orbs that met his wanting stare. His heart was aching now, with that desire he wanted to capture and the belief (and fear) that he might do so, with the belief and longing that she was reflecting back at him. Maker smite him!

In a sudden rush, he took her in an overwhelmingly desired kiss, pulling her closer to him. He wanted that kiss so badly he nearly missed, catching more of her upper lip than anything, but the following one was far more accurate. She tasted even sweeter in real life, with just the slightest hint of saltiness from her sweat. He released her hand, both of them shifting to entrap the other in their arms. Kathryn had brought one hand around his neck, her fingers beginning to run through his damp hair, while she held firmly onto his coat with the other. She was standing up on her toes, trying to compromise for their height difference and to not fall away from him. He wasn't going to let her if he had his way. He had one arm wrapped tightly around her lower back, feeling her body pressing up against him, and he simultaneously stroked her jawline and entangling his own fingers in her loosening locks, angling her face to better allow him to indulge on her lips.

Cullen no longer felt the cold damp nature of his clothing, only the heat growing in his body, the warmth of her soft skin, and the rapid pounding of his own heart. He no longer heard the distant chatter and laughter of the group, only the gentle suction of their kisses, their brief gasps for air, and muffled moans buried in their throats. He no longer cared about anything but this moment, where nothing in the world mattered and they were lost to everything but themselves. Oh, how he could live in this moment forever. But alas, Kathryn slowly pulled away and he reluctantly let her go. They stood quiet for several seconds, their foreheads pressed against one another, catching their breath as clearer thoughts re-entered their minds. Now he feared he had gone too far, assaulting her with a barrage of kisses. He had thought- It _felt_ like she wanted him just as badly, but maybe… his imagination was playing against him again.

"Cullen…" she whispered, her breath still catching up to her. Hearing her say his name both strengthened his hunger for her and his fear of messing everything up. He tightened his hold around her back, his fingers wanting to dig through her armor to touch her delicate skin, especially when she ran her hand along his cheek and jawline, her thumb softly tracing his scar. His stubble was heavier than normal, having not shaved the last couple days. "... how far, are we going to go?"

It was the same question she asked him back in South Reach, hiding a far deeper meaning. It was more than just this moment, but the time beyond it. How far could they, would they go? Cullen lifted his head to be able to look her in the eye, to gaze lovingly into those brilliant emeralds. "... I'm willing to go as far as I can, so long as, you're willing too."

He felt Kathryn tremble in his arms, but he didn't think in a bad way. She was smiling. She even softly laughed. "You do realize, I'm talking more than just tonight, right?"

With his own subtle chuckle, "Yes. And I'm willing to follow wherever your travels take you."

"Be careful what you ask for. I go to some _pretty horrible_ places." Now she was teasing him, though in a pleasing way. Both her arms were propped up on his shoulders now, relaxed as she found comfort in his embrace, and she was inching ever closer.

"Hmm…" he teased in his own way, acting as if re-thinking her offer. It was the following pause, however, that really got to her. He couldn't help but smirk, finally answering, "I've partaken in Orlesian _parties_. I don't think anything can top that." It got a laugh out of her.

"Then dare I say," she began, her lips soon brushing against his, teasing him, as she continued to speak, "that I would very much enjoy your company. Now, and days to come."

No restraint or level of resistance training could keep him from capturing her lips in another long-drawn kiss. One heated grasp after another. He held her as close as he could, wishing that their armor wasn't there, and that's when he felt her tug on him. From both her sucking, oh-so-gently, on his lower lip, drawing him down to her, and her pulling him by the collar of his coat, leading him elsewhere. They took too many steps to count, not that he was paying any real attention to it, not once daring to pull away else miss the taste of her sweet kisses. He did have to duck into the tent she lured him to, though he was able to stand inside - if barely, and the instant they found themselves in seclusion, the armor began to come off. There came a haste of unclipping, each piece tossed to the ground without a care. He was most pleased when his gloves were removed, able to feel the true warmth and smooth nature of her skin; stroking her face and neck, slipping under her shirt, caressing her hip and back. It was like nothing in the world could be any softer.

Cullen eagerly returned to her the moment his breastplate was lifted off and clanked to the ground, catching her in heated passion. Also, when he removed her tabard and again when he forcibly snapped open her studded cloth. She gasped at his aggressive approach, but not once recoiled from him. Her arms got trapped in that studded garment while she tried to impatiently remove the sleeves, and he took complete advantage of it. He kissed and sucked all the way down her neck, his lips and the tip of his tongue tasting every inch of her sensitive skin. Kathryn moaned and gasped in ecstasy, dipping her head back to grant him further access. He helped yank the stubborn piece off her, the woman immediately grabbing the front of his shirt and ripping it open, every single button popping off. Now it was his turn to gasp at her aggressiveness, Kathryn catching him in a moist kiss thereafter and snaking her tongue into his mouth. It was a pleasant surprise, one which he wholeheartedly returned in kind.

Once the shirt was gone, he felt the full heat of her exposed body against his torso, which ignited a more intense heat within him. He felt the tight nature of her athletic structure, her supple curvature, and the light bounce of her breasts against his chest. He slid his hand along her spine, getting a nice shiver out her in the process, and an even nicer moan when he slipped his fingers under the lining of her bra and followed it along to her front. That lacy, beige fabric, revealing and concealing just enough to play on his imagination, got caught on his hand as he began to massage the bottom curve of her breast and ultimately helped push those lovely mounds out of their containers. It was difficult to not get distracted. While he continued to play, Kathryn once again dipped her head back so he could taste even more of her, his lips finding that enticing swell as she arched into him, and she lifted one leg up to straddle him and knocked gently against his groin.

 _Oh, sweet Andraste!_

Cullen caught her leg and in seconds they were down atop the loose sprawling sheets. He held himself up with one arm, not wanting to crush her under his weight, and she wrapped her other leg around him as he instinctively, and longingly, ground against her. He eventually did have to bring his other arm in for support, slowly breaking away from their intense kiss as he rose above her. His eyes hungrily traced every line and curve of her body, memorizing every detail. He watched her chest heave with every weighed breath, the peaks of her breasts erect just above her bra thanks to his earlier meddling. He looked deep into those emerald orbs to see the hot passion and desire locked within, begging for his continuing attention. He felt her hands detangle from his hair and gracefully glide across his skin. Her touch was so delicate, soft like feathers, it was nearly enough to send him over the edge.

Kathryn traced along every hard-earned muscle of his torso, from his firm pecs to his tight abs, her eyes following along. She no doubt felt the pounding of his heart increasing as her hands journeyed lower and lower, giving that a smirk was growing upon her face. And when she slid under the rim of his pants, taking a moment to massage the strength of his thighs before sweeping them inward, brushing against and loosely grabbing his prominent -

" _Maker!"_ he moaned from the back of his throat.

Practically all the strength in his arms left him and he nearly toppled on top of her, catching himself on his elbows from her weakening touch. And she dared to have a smug look on her face too. Well, if that's how she wanted to play… She laughed playfully at his dangerous smirk.

Cullen mouthed the side of her neck, delivering soft pecks and lip brushes along her supple skin as he began to traverse southward, slipping out of her teasing grasp. He paused on each breast of course, enjoying the sound of her invigorated moans and the tight grip of her fingers upon him, as well as the pounding inside her chest, and as he lowered upon her abdomen, he snuck a hand down to her pants. He easily unbuttoned the form fitting clothing and began to slip it off, one leg at a time, taking everything with it. Kathryn eagerly kicked them off when they reached close to her ankles, before Cullen settled her legs back down with a gentle stroke and kiss, starting from her knee and down her inner thigh. Now he held the smug look when he saw how red she got, her body beginning to tremble from his kisses getting closer and closer. There was a sweet, almost pungent smell down here and he could guess why.

But now he found himself in a difficult situation. He didn't know how to proceed from here, he's never been in this position before. Does he continue to simply kiss her down in these dark locks, tasting that unique smell she was emitting? Or should he rise back up and slide into her? It was without question that he was looking forward to the latter, but would that be all she sees from him? An animalistic lust to plunge deep into? … No. He strongly doubted that. Especially when it was her that beckoned for his return. Kathryn cupped his cheek and led him back to her, taking him in a loving kiss that held even more meaning than all the ones previous. He wrapped her in strong embrace while she straddled him with her legs, not-so subtly sliding his pants down with her feet. He moaned into the kiss when their groins met, feeling her warm, sticky moisture, and it only took a couple strokes until he couldn't bare it anymore.

Cullen lifted one of her legs further up, widening the gap, and dove right in. Both of them released airy gasps of relishment, their bodies tensing from the sensual connection. It was like a bolt of lightning just surged throughout his entire body, empowering and igniting him beyond belief. He cradled her bum as he thrusted forward. He started out slow and gentle, simply savoring the feeling, but his speed and pressure increased as Kathryn begged for more, whispering in his ear. _Ooh_ , he loved that lustrous sound in her voice, that sinful glaze over her eyes. He was more than happy to surrender to her every wish, thrusting deeper and deeper inside her tightening pocket. He was going to give her his all, and take everything she gave him.


End file.
